


Rapids

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess), Shatterpath



Series: Rapids [1]
Category: E.R., The Division (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-03
Updated: 2002-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-03 07:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 121,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/378622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something sinister is happening in the Windy City. A whole new cast of characters comes in to combat this new threat and widen the circle of family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Roll of the Dice

**Author's Note:**

> Category: The continuing saga of Reflections/ Resurgences/Refractions. Begins just after the new year, only days after Refractions ended.
> 
> General Disclaimer: This series contains stories between mature, consenting adult females. All characters are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
> 
> Inspiring quote: Part of what makes fantasy so appealing is its ability to transcend the one-dimensional aspect of the mental. -Lex
> 
> Note from the author: This tale is an experiment for me to push the boundaries of plot and taboo. I love fiction! The character of CD from Lifetime’s ‘the Division’ fascinated me until TPTB assassinated her character with various potshots, one more outrageous and insulting than the next. I took the aspects I loved in her and added in every twist that I could come up with. Tracy Needham, who played CD, is a goddess in my eyes, for giving me very subtle layers to draw upon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Sandy and Joan, revisited.
> 
> Disclaimer: “ER”, the characters and situations depicted are the property of Warner Bros. Television, Amblin Entertainment, Constant C Productions, NBC, etc.
> 
> Disclaimer: “The Division”, All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of Lifetime Television, Kedzie Productions, Viacom Productions, and Paramount.
> 
> Disclaimer: “The X-Files”, Created by Chris Carter, produced by 20th Century Fox Television and Ten Thirteen Productions.
> 
> Spoilers: Nothing specific, but this is set in a very-parallel alternate universe of Lifetime’s ‘The Division’, second season. Warning! The X-Files as we know it, does not exist in this alternate universe. Mulder, Scully and Reyes are in their original FBI jobs as profiler, forensics and field agent. Give them a shot, I think you might like my versions! Just work with me, okay? Several characters are from earlier sections of Light, Water and Muses, and aspects of their characters and backgrounds were established there.

++ Sandy ++

 

(1-3-02)

 

Man, I was the luckiest shit in the universe! When I met Joan, I had hardly dared hope. After the bedroom fireworks last night, this morning and this afternoon, I would happily be her love-slave forever! Damn she was a wildcat beneath that cool exterior. When she’d had to go off to work, I’d hung out with the gang at Zo’s place and goofed off until the wee hours. Damn, but I was having a great life right about now! There was nothing that could bring me down. Nothing!

 

My cell chattered at me and I fished it out with a cheery, “Happy New Year!”

 

“San! Oh god ! You gotta come get me! He’s gonna kill me!” For a split second I couldn’t react to the stark terror on the line. “San, please!” Silver. It was Silver on the line! I hardly recognized my cocky pal from the EMTs. 

 

“Jesus Silver, where are you?”

 

“Near the corner of Forth and Mason, by the old glass factory. Hurry! I'm bleeding everywhere!”

 

“Bleeding? What’s going on?”

 

“San, just hurry!”

 

Mind whirling, I stepped on the gas and sent the Nissan roaring into the shrill winter darkness. The old glass factory was an abandoned complex that had been converted into some questionable night recreation areas. A legal loophole kept it standing even though the district was salivating to tear it down for god-knows-what. What the hell was Silver doing there? Wait… this was right around the corner from that new club that she and Zo danced at sometimes! Plunging into the darkness of the crumbling complex, tires slip-sliding on ice, I frantically searched the pools of light ahead of my car for any signs of my buddy.

 

Several things happened all at once. First, I got half a lifetime knocked off my palm’s lifeline as sheer terror kicked my lizard brain into overdrive and adrenaline flooded my body. A body flashed by my front right end and I reflexively slammed the brakes. Except that I missed and stomped the accelerator.

 

The mistake saved both of our lives.

 

In a breathless instant, I saw the nightmare that had terrorized my pal so badly. Maniacal gold eyes like some kinda freakin’ zoo animal glared at me like a death sentence. Some kind of blunt weapon smashed into the hood with enough force to shatter a headlight and I was plunged into half-darkness. Terrified reflex yanked the wheel to the right and I flinched away even as the club pulverized the window beside me. Damn good thing I was short, as the headrest was snapped off by the viciousness of the attack.

 

Everything was moving in slow motion, my breath loud in my ears, heartbeat thrumming a bass beat. As my tires scrabbled wildly through dirty snow and busted-up asphalt, something thumped heavily against the metal body just behind me as the rear end swung out. A screaming roar like a nightmare blasted even over the sounds of the tires and my laboring engine. Screaming and cursing, I fought the little SUV as it rose up onto two tires and leaned sickening from the centrifugal force. Someone was rushing the car even as it thumped down in its proper position hard enough to nearly give me whiplash.

 

Scrappy, that’s what papa had always called me. A scrappy little guard dog. I reached deep and found that strength and muscled the car to my will with sheer stubbornness. Silver, for I abruptly realized that the first body had been her, threw herself against the passenger side hard enough to spiderweb the glass and splatter blood everywhere. Slamming the brakes, I dragged her a good six feet before lurching to a halt. Only now did I realize that she was screaming in terror.

 

She had been screaming since flashing across my headlights.

 

The door was yanked open and I floored it, the engine screaming in protest. Torque dropped the chassis towards the pavement, the car bunching up like a racing greyhound on a rabbit pelt. My windshield went with a sound like a gunshot and I flinched away even as my arm came up to protect my face.

 

It only half worked as a shattering blow smashed across my forearm and into my head. Something harder than flash and bone cracked across my temple and I was seeing stars. But through all of that was the fear, driving me like a hunted animal to save myself from the savage thing right on top of me. I remained on the accelerator, blind with pain and blood in my eyes as the Forrester lurched away. A body crashed across my roof, hands scrabbling at the shattered remains of my side window. At last the weight off the top was gone. But not before I saw him in the rearview mirror, a murderous rampage given flesh, rushing at us too fast for anything human, despite what skin he wore. The back window went with his furious attack and I stayed standing on the gas pedal, willing to take on the danger of near-blindness than that thing back there. The Nissan obediently raced off into the darkness, away from the terror and fear.

 

But I could still hear him roaring like a nightmare, the sound imprinted on my psyche forever.

 

++ Magda Ramirez ++

 

(1-4-02)

 

I missed Jinny sitting close by, keeping me sane with her presence alone. With her off in rehab, I was at a loss of what to do with myself. Having her gone and with this new guy from vice with CD, things were chaotic at best.

 

The chattering of my phone stopped my circular thoughts and I snatched up the receiver. “Inspector Ramirez,” I rattled off mechanically.

 

“Mags?”

 

The voice was so unexpected and so out of context that I actually pulled the receiver away from my ear and stared at it for a long moment. Ever, so slowly, I placed the molded plastic back to my ear and took a deep breath. “Sandy?”

 

“Mags,” she breathed softly in what honestly sounded like relief and the sense of unreality deepened. My disowned black-sheep of a sister didn’t need me. She didn’t need anyone or anything that clan Ramirez could offer her. She had made that quite clear many years ago. “Mags, he’s gonna find me. I just know it. You hafta protect me. Please...”

 

I was freaked out now. Sandy sounded drugged out and terrified, her voice slurred and shaky. “San, where are you?”

 

“Hos... hospital. Not s’posed to call, but m’scared. He tried to kill me Mags, an’ he’s gonna try again, I jus’ know it!”

 

Her voice had risen to near-hysterical and I automatically went into ‘cop’ mode to cover up my very real panic. “Hey, hey, just calm down. I’m right here, San. Are you in trouble now?”

 

“No,” she sobbed like a child. “Mags, he knows what I look like, an’ I don’t think he’s human. No one’s listening and Silver might be dead, an’...”

 

“Okay, I’m here, San, I’ll do anything I can.” There was a sound on the other end, a voice asking something. There was a pause where all I could hear was her heavy breathing. “San? Sandy? Are you okay?”

 

“Talk to this guy, he can tell you more. The docs don’t want me straining myself.” Her voice had gone flat and monotone, completely unnerving me. The phone rattled for a moment while my protective instincts boiled over.

 

“Miss Lopez is in my protective custody,” the smooth male voice said quietly. “She’s safe now.”

 

My emotions boiled over.

 

“Now wait one goddamn minute!” My bellow caused a wave of silence to settle over the downtown San Francisco Police Division as they all stared. I couldn’t give a damn and gripped the phone as though it was the strange man’s neck. “That’s my sister you have there. You had damn well better start explaining yourself or there’s gonna be hell to pay!”

 

“I assure you that she’s in the best of hands, ma’am. Now, if you’ll...”

 

“Don’t you patronize me! She sounds terrified! And she said she was hurt! I’m a cop, so don’t even think of yanking my chain!”

 

When he spoke again, his voice was resigned and a bit sheepish. “I’m Agent Fox Mulder of the FBI. I assure you, officer…”

 

“Inspector,” I automatically growled.

 

“Ah… Inspector. This incident is being taken care of with all expediency. I will be personally overseeing the safety of your sister.”

 

I jumped on the phrasing. “So she is still in danger.”

 

Agent Mulder made a strangled sound that might have amused me under different circumstances. My line abruptly clicked and for an insane moment I thought I’d been cut off. “This is Captain Kaitlyn McCafferty. May I be of assistance here?”

 

++ CD DeLorenzo ++

 

It was completely unlike Magda to explode like that. When she suddenly paled and hung up the phone, I swung my chair around to face her. Heavily, the small Hispanic woman stood and I automatically went to her. Having Jinny gone and all of us stressing over that was taking its toll on her strong soul. “You okay? Can I help?”

 

For a moment if looked like she might shrug me off, but then she deflated. “My sister is in some kind of trouble. She was attacked by someone and is in FBI custody in Chicago. At least I assume she’s still in Chicago.”

 

Now I was puzzled. “You have family in Chicago?”

 

“Just Sandy. It’s a long story.”

 

At that moment, the captain’s door opened and she silently gestured for Magda. For some weird reason, she grabbed my sleeve, fear and a trace of panic in the gesture. I could only let myself be dragged along into the unknown, flashing my partner and confused and apologetic look. Captain McCafferty eyed me strangely, but left it at that, taking her seat and gesturing for us to sit. “We’re here listening, Agent Mulder. Go ahead.”

 

“Thank you,” came a tinny male voice from the speakerphone. “I apologize for the stress of what’s happening. While I can’t reveal everything about what happened.” Magda growled and he hurriedly kept speaking. “I can tell you that your sister went to help a friend of hers and was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

Some internal prod made me speak up. “Is the friend okay?”

 

“I’m afraid not. And if this is the perp I think it is, we haven’t seen the last of him.” God, he sounded almost eager. Several pieces clicked into place from the minimalist conversation and I stood as I thought them through. While the captain spoke with the FBI man, I quietly opened the door and waved Reina over. The young officer assigned to help the captain immediately bounded over and a dropped my voice to barely a whisper. “Bring me the latest VICAP updates, as soon as possible. Start with Chicago. It’s really important.”

 

Soundlessly, Reina vanished to do my bidding. The Violent Criminal Apprehension Program had been created so that law enforcement could track patterns. I had a sneaking suspicion that this Agent Mulder was tracking a serial. Since San Francisco had been one of the first cities to utilize VICAP, updates dropped to us almost instantaneously. Even if the FBI were trying to keep this hush-hush, any report filed in the database would have made it here.

 

“I appreciate your offer of assistance,” Mulder was placating McCafferty, who was having far too much fun yanking his chain by keeping him on the line. “But I assure you that things are well in hand.”

 

Reina shoved a handful of faxes at me and I gave her an appreciative grin. The rookie had real potential and it was always good to encourage that. Speed reading the sheet, I felt a cold fear grip my guts. “This is the guy that hits leather players,” I stated flatly and the room went deadly silent. “I have friends in the Scene, Agent Mulder, and this case is suddenly shaping up to be personal in more ways than one.” My more aggressive side was waking up now, a kitty stretching in the sun before she hunts. It had been a long time since I had felt the power and it thrilled me. “There’s never been a witness before. I have the VICAP reports in my hands. You’ll never get within a mile of him unless you get an ‘in’ with the Scene. This isn’t like infiltrating a drug ring. This is hard.”

 

Both Magda and McCafferty were open-mouthed in astonishment at my behavior. Crouched over the phone, all anger and overbearing predator, I was hardly acting myself. Well, not to them anyway. The life I’d walked away from when I’d my idiot husband was bearing down on me like a freight train.

 

Abruptly, there was a clatter on the phone line and a startled noise from Mulder. A new voice spoke, calm, collected and distinctly female. “Are you volunteering?”

 

It would mean exposing my most private self... but if I couldn’t trust these women I worked with, who could I trust? Magda’s pleading look clinched it for me. “Yes.”

 

++ Kate McCafferty ++

 

After gathering some pertinent details from the two FBI agents, I ended the conversation and sent Magda off with a few terse instructions. Keeping her busy would reduce her stress and I added that to my mental list. Adding this chaos with her sister to the missing Exstead, and it was a testament to Magda that she was functioning at all.

 

Now it was just me and CD. While we had never discussed her subversive streak, I was quite aware of it. After twelve years, there were few secrets between us. 

 

I remembered the gangly, brash twenty-year-old just out of her mandatory jail duty stint. I had been one of the inspectors that introduced her to the streets. Hell, I had encouraged cranky ole’ Dick to take the girl on as a partner. He was still sorely missed, that old man. It was mostly his doing, but I liked to think that I had a hand in her earning her gold shield so quickly.

 

I was also quite aware of her falling out three years ago with her beloved mentor and Mistress, in favor of marrying that idiot, Paul. It was a guarantee that I wasn’t the only one that still puzzled over that decision. “Are you going to talk to her?”

 

That earned me a sharp look before CD sighed heavily and sprawled inelegantly back into the chair. “I don’t see how I can avoid it.” Sighing again, she leaned forward to put her elbows on knees and scrubbed her face roughly. “No one likes to admit to stupidity. Least of all to someone like Sylvia.”

 

“You can’t avoid her forever.”

 

That comment earned me a sour look. “Why not? I’ve been doing fine so far.” But she didn’t mean it, I could read that in her tone.

 

“Have you?”

 

The shrink-like comment made CD think, her brows bunched up in concentration. “What about Nate?”

 

That made me sigh. “Leave him to me. No one knows exactly when Jinny will be back, and Magda has warmed her desk long enough. Let her break him in and he won’t be the ‘new guy’ for long.”

 

That made her chuckle throatily and smile. Dick’s loss still hung heavily on her, despite all these months having passed since his death. And I wasn’t even going to bring up the hurtful farce of her last partner. There was a special place in hell for the likes of Angela Reide. The woman had no concept of partnership, abruptly leaving CD high and dry not all that long ago. An already scarred soul was left further damaged. It was no wonder that she was worried about our new transfer from Vice.

 

“Buck up, CD,” I cajoled and her smile deepened a little. “You’re one of the finest officers that I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Magda’s sister and the FBI are lucky to get your help. Besides, this will give you a chance to work out your past and future with Sylvia. So get moving!”

 

Only then did she finally smile in earnest. “It sounds like you want this more than me.”

 

“Oh, get out of here, before I kick your ass.”

 

Now she chuckled at the banter and I felt much better about sending her off into the unknown. “I love pushy, older red-heads. Thanks captain, I owe you one. Wish me luck.”

 

Grinning thinly, I watched CD saunter out and speak quietly with Nate and Magda. I deliberately ignored Reina’s curious look, but made a note to put a real effort into grooming the rookie. Life moves on…

 

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Opening Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CD is required to deal with some of her past to step forward into her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, due to some of the unfolding themes. Remember that I warned you about breaking taboos!
> 
> Personal disclaimer: Sylvia and Nicole are mine.

++ Sylvia Ventura, The Red Queen ++

 

When the door to my office burst open, I jumped in surprise despite myself. Very little fazed me anymore, as I had seen and done far too much to be easily shocked.

 

But, once again, she took me completely off guard the way a bullet might, shredding through flesh. Or a wild dog from a dark alley, sharp teeth flashing in the streetlights.

 

She stalked in like an arrogant and hungry predator, utterly self-assured of her own prowess. Even after all these years, my body shivered with the electric thrill of her presence. A motorcycle helmet dangled from one gloved fist, and my favorite pet was firmly scruffed in the other.

 

“My Lady Red Queen,” Dace intoned formally and shoved Nicole into a kneeling position. I knew that her co-workers called her CD, but the initials were ridiculous and I refused to use them. She had always been Dace to me and those that knew her well. Or Leonacouer, the lioness-hearted, when she was in character like this, a name I had given her all those years ago… My Lioness Heart’s deep bow was flawlessly executed and the well-honed perfectionist in me was pleased, despite the situation. “We need to talk.” My shock finally morphed into livid rage, admittedly a bit tardily. How dare she waltz in here as though she had some right to my personal domain! Nicole cowered in fear, nearly huddling behind Leonacouer’s legs. While my emotional explosion built red and violent behind my eyes. Dace fought with herself for a long moment. I was perversely amused to watch the familiar struggle. There had been much of it that finally cumulated in her leaving me three years ago. It cleared suddenly and she shoved her helmet into Nicole’s arms. “Hold that. And stay put. I’ll need your two cents about this.”

 

That was the last straw and I snapped to my feet to snarl at her with a voice that shook with suppressed rage. “How dare you come in here and though you have some right to my presence and speak to my personal body slave without my permission!”

 

Something intensely feral and dangerous flashed tawny in crystal blue eyes. Once again, I was thrilled and terrified at the silent threat. Damn her...

 

It took some effort, but Leonacouer swallowed the beast down and I could see that the effort cost her.

 

This striking woman was the finest challenge that had crossed my path. We had made magic together. A dizzying mix of feral wildness and rigid control, like a tornado inside of an ice cage, my first and finest Ace was unforgettable. I may have tattooed her flesh with my mark, but the imprint of her soul on mine was just as permanent. Even now, after years of separation, she drew me in like heat. 

 

Again, Leonacouer bowed, abruptly all manners. “My apologies, my Queen. I’m not here about you and I, but something bigger and more important.”

 

I hated that I was disappointed.

 

++ CD, Dace, Leonacouer ++

 

After all this time, she still thrilled me. Physically, she hadn’t changed noticeably, still tall and whip-cord lean with heavy breasts and classic legs that stopped traffic. She still wore crimson in defiance of fashion saying that the color did not match her expansive mane of sorrel hair. Her bright blue eyes still flashed almost green when she was emotionally charged.

 

The skin stretched tight over my heart and back burned.

 

In shades of black and red, I still wore the symbol given me by my Queen with mixed emotions. Unlike the other sexual slaves that passed through Sylvia’s care, I bore not the pawn, but the king himself, shadowed by his powerful queen. The glittering jewel of the crimson Diamond surrounded the chess pieces in glittering backdrop. I was the only one that I knew of to ever bear this mark. Sylvia had spent months perfecting the design and even more time learning how to apply it herself.

 

Even eighteen years later, I remembered being lashed to the horizontal cross, begging for her mark. Both of us were bone-weary by the time the masterpiece was finished.

 

It was still frighteningly beautiful to me. 

 

The electric stare had grown sly while I reminisced. I could never hide the way she made me feel… and our years apart had not lessened the effect. All I could do was get down to business and pray for my sanity. “I’m joining the FBI on a case and I need your help.”

 

“My help?” She purred condescendingly, knowing that she suddenly had the upper hand. But not for long.

 

“There’s a serial killer preying on the leather community.”

 

A heavy silence descended over the office, our triple breathing heavy in the sudden quiet. Sylvia was brilliant, but stubborn. It was that impossible bull-headedness that had finally driven me off. The woman found it impossible to admit that she was wrong about anything. 

 

“There’s been little communication between cities anymore. He kills in pairs, gay couples, two men and two women. All of them in the Scene.” The words sank in like mercury through the skin. “Ring any bells?”

 

All of Sylvia’s energies were focused inward now, her mind engrossed in the mystery I had brought her. Respecting the process, I waited patiently and glanced down at Nicole. I remembered the woman, a shy wallflower with a subservient hunger that burned wild behind her eyes. I’d been so jealous and irritated over my Queen’s fascination with her... Given permission to help train her, I’d been merciless.

 

Thankfully, for Nicole’s sake, I’d left before ruining her completely. Sadism was fine, but a Bottom should be rewarded for a job well done and I could barely bring myself to do that. 

 

Nicole wanted to meet my gaze, she nearly vibrated with the need. But her training won out and she remained kneeling beside me, clutching my helmet as though it was a lifeline. I could see that her thumbs minutely caressed the shiny black surface. It seemed that Nicole remembered me after all.

 

++ Nicole ++

 

Her blue gaze was like a physical weight on my head. I almost expected to feel her hand caressing over my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to her will... Shaking off my familiar needs as best as I could, I gripped the inky helmet crushingly tight, liking the hard press of it into my softness. Even with my Mistress paying me no mind, I was shaking with fear. The tall woman towering over me had always terrified me in ways I had never been completely certain I liked. 

 

My heart was racing like a rabbit’s.

 

Watching the familiar boots on Leonacouer’s feet wasn’t helping. The boots were a heavy standard motorcycle style with thick wooden heels and squared off toes. Only, instead of the usual straps and buckles decorating the inky leather, the original Ace of Diamonds, the mighty Leonacouer, had custom boot bracelets. Goddess above, but she was sexy. Two bright silver chains hooked to diamond-shaped rings on the sides of her feet and a pigskin strap held them snug to the heavy boot leather.

 

But not snug enough that the woman didn’t send up the faintest chime when she walked. It was a maddening tease to someone of my station and fetish. 

 

I was shaking with the need to worship those boots. 

 

“How does he kill?” Sylvia suddenly barked into the thick quiet and the crushing tension was gone as Leonacouer raised her gaze and I could breathe once more.

 

“The FBI hasn’t given me all of the details yet. The profiler I spoke with made it sound like this was a long term and personal vendetta.”

 

“How long?”

 

“Just over three years. Once in autumn and once and spring.”

 

Just over three years. The same time that the Four Suits had fractured apart. The same time that Leonacouer had left for the last time. My Queen’s gaze was sharp and hurt, like blood on a razor blade. Those were not good times and the memories were still raw. Leonacouer might try to act nonchalant, but her body was tense, her hands thrust roughly into her jeans pockets. Wounded and all too human, Sylvia leaned back from the computer and was strangely vulnerable for a long moment. “When I ceased speaking with Jesse and the others, this freak started attacking?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

The green-blue eyes narrowed and I cringed in terror. Most of the Red Queen’s psychological power came from her icy control. But she owned a ferocious temper that matched the color of her hair. Leonacouer had always been a very powerful trigger for my Mistress. Especially when their roles were reversed like this. It was fascinating, seeing Leonacouer calm and cool with my Queen seething and flushed. I wisely remained motionless beside Leonacouer, breathing shallowly and willing myself to be invisible.

 

“You think this is somehow my fault.”

 

“Not at all ma’am,” Leonacouer soothed placidly and her body relaxed. “I merely said that the breakdown in communication between cities attributed to the killer moving unchecked all this time.”

 

Which meant that, yes, it was partially Sylvia’s fault. I remembered the days of the Four Suits, each of the four naming themselves from the deck of cards. Each of them in a different major city and watching over the four sectors of the United States. My Mistress had been the keeper of the west coast, while the others watched over the east coast and the middle states split from west to east. An emotional falling out had led to communication drying up between the superpowers and this killer had appeared.

 

This was horrible.

 

Visibly controlling herself, Sylvia leaned back into the computer and was back to business. “They’re certain that it’s one attacker?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“If it’s personal, he would beat his victims to death, so that he was directly involved. He may also shoot them execution-style, but that’s usually more business-like.”

 

The conversation was making me queasy with the implications. Sylvia’s tone was grim and shaken, Leonacouer’s boots chimed softly as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

 

“No, I believe San Francisco was spared. Honestly, I haven’t heard of anything out of the ordinary all along the west coast. If the FBI can be persuaded to spare a few more details, I can check more closely.”

 

“Good,” Leonacouer breathed in relief and abruptly sounded like just a relieved police inspector. “The quick search that I did pointed to a ‘no’ as well.”

 

In the quiet that followed, my Queen leaned back in her chair, impenetrable and icily watchful. This was how she was her most magnificent and Leonacouer’s anxious fretting quieted. “You could have just called. Why did you come here?”

 

Why indeed.

 

++ Sylvia ++

 

Years ago, young Candace Bogart had come to me, and I to her. I had been immediately ensnared by her intensity. Even then, as a coltish adolescent prowling the dark underbelly of Los Angeles like a hungry lion barely into his mane, she had been electric. Old before her time, lean and quick, I spotted her standing at the chasm that so many youths like her were forced to face. Only a step away from disaster of one sort or another; drugs, promiscuity, the thrill of criminal life, the choices were many. 

 

I liked to think I had a hand in saving her from herself.

 

All that blast furnace intensity drew the darkness to her like hungry sharks. Heart pounding in terror, I carefully reeled in my young lioness before a truly dangerous sort destroyed her. It was a more difficult catch than I had expected. Looking back, I was hooked long before I had her safely in my net.

 

The wholesome good looks and fierce blue gaze harmonized with her loose, aggressive body. Childish social training was giving way to adult needs, but my lion cub had no focus. I gave her that. Trained her body and honed her intensity. By giving her goals, My Lioness Heart became focused and driven. It wasn’t easy to keep her doing the things that fifteen-year-olds were supposed to be doing, like going to high school. She could be a ferocious little rebel.

 

Like now.

 

Bringing all these old hurts to light, was like lancing a painful wound I barely acknowledged. When I fell out with my old group of friends, only denial had kept me sane.

 

But I was incomplete without them.

 

A strange expression flashed over Leonacouer’s face, and I was shocked that I could barely read her anymore. There was a time when she had been capable of hiding nothing from me. No longer. Not that I was disappointed with her. In the past, as a rebellious teenager, I could see hints of the woman she had become. No matter the history between us, she had grown up magnificently… when she wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t.

 

“I came here,” Leonacouer began slowly, wary of my reaction to her words. “Because I need your help to stop this guy.” Aw, crap, I could make a damn good guess where this was going. When she looked up through her lashes at me, nineteen years fell away and I was starkly reminded of my young love.

 

Shaken, I gripped the edge of my desk. Damn her for having such an effect on me... 

 

“I’m here, as far as anyone needs to know, to beg you to take me back. To test me, you send me to Chicago as ambassador to Silverback. Once he’s satisfied that I’m serious, he sends me back. My captain is in on this and the paperwork for an indefinite leave of absence is already filed.”

 

“I don’t speak with Jesse anymore,” I spoke woodenly through my murky emotions and hurt flashed through her pleading gaze.

 

“I know,” she whispered. “Let me do this for you. By reconciling with the others… perhaps this won’t happen again.”

 

I wasn’t certain I could face Jesse.

 

Or Anastasia.

 

Or, worst of all... KC.

 

My old leather buddies had been a fixture in my life for so many years that losing them... and Leonacouer... had very nearly destroyed me. If not for Nicole’s steady presence, I would have gone insane.

 

My pride had kept me from my family for nearly three long years. Leonacouer had left me for the final time because of my falling out with the other Suits. How ironic that she would also be the catalyst to heal the rift. She had even managed to find a way to do it without damaging my insufferable pride.

 

People were dying and I could help stop it by apologizing to Jesse. I had a responsibility and a duty to get involved, and I understood responsibility and duty all to well. So, I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes, uncaring that I was ruining my careful makeup. Then I picked up the phone and hit the speed-dial number that was still his after all this time.

 

It was picked up on the second ring and a familiar bass voice rumbled through the line. “Madame Red Queen. How may I serve you?” 

 

Good ole’ caller ID… Tiny knew it was me even before picking up. Bless his heart for not even sounding surprised that I was suddenly on his Master’s phone. So I pulled the armor of my icy persona around me tightly. “I require a moment of Silverback’s time.”

 

“Yes Madame. I will attend to that immediately.”

 

Tiny was the kind of Sub that made Tops sigh with envy. He was a massive mountain of man, nearly seven feet tall and built like a blacksmith, with manners to put the finest house servant or maitre d’ to shame. Jesse adored him utterly and it was mutual. Faint sounds of the Chicago club filtered tinnily through the cell phone Tiny carried. Bottles clinked, voices murmured and things scraped across cement and wood. How I missed the domain of the King of Clubs. It just wasn’t a party without my old friend in attendance. Then the voice of the man himself filtered to my ears, irately berating some fool who’d made the mistake of displeasing him.

 

Tiny’s footfalls halted as he waited patiently for his Master’s attention. There was the crack of a heavy smack and a boy whimpered pitifully.

 

“The Red Queen,” Tiny intoned somberly and the sounds of the cell trading hands reached me. Long seconds ticked by with only the sounds of the distant club and my own breathing harsh in my ears. Finally, I heard the brush of Jesse’s heavy beard over the microphone and the sound of his breath.

 

“Sylvia.”

 

I wanted to cry at how wary and distant he sounded. The man had once been a brother to me and now…

 

“Jesse,” I managed to husk around the lump in my throat and fought to swallow my tears. “The Ace of Diamonds has returned to me with an offer to act as an ambassador between us.”

 

Again, that heavy silence, making me squirm. “Oh?”

 

It was unlike him, to be a man of so few words. I had often teased him about being the reincarnation of Shakespeare or Homer. It was proof that I had hurt him deeply. So, I did something I never did. Ignoring Leonacouer and Nicole, I reached deep into my soul for strength.

 

“Please Jesse, I want to apologize.”

 

**To Be Continued....**


	3. The Ace of Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that events are moving ahead, CD gets some help getting to Chicago and gets back into character with the assistance of a very helpful stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: NC-17. You’re gonna see a lot of this…

++ Dace ++

 

Utterly shocked by my Queen’s vulnerable tone as well as the softly spoken words, I carefully sank into a squat beside Nicole. Hopefully, the maneuver didn’t distract from the phone call. I wanted to give Sylvia some psychological space by leaving her the dominant one in the room. Nik’s eyes flickered over to me for a moment and she grew even more tense. Neither of us was sure what to do in this situation.

 

It had been years since we’d been on our knees together, and while I wasn’t actually kneeling, we were eye to eye.

 

As time passed in my Queen’s care, I had begun to rebel at my strictly Submissive position. Attending the police academy probably played into that need as well. Right about the time it was becoming a serious issue between Sylvia and I…

 

Nicole walked into our lives.

 

Sylvia had casually known the woman for years as a business contact, even socializing with her sometimes. It took years before she had found out about Nik’s submissive curiosities. Oh, the irony; my expert dominatrix Mistress clueless to such a bottomless need. And Nicole was a bottomless pit for abuse. No matter how much was heaped on her, she kept rallying for more. It was beautiful stuff.

 

I had perfected many a skill over her back, ass and mind.

 

“Thank you Jesse. My Leonacouer will be at your doorstep within the next twenty-four hours. Good day.”

 

A click of the phone returning to its cradle… a heavy sigh that was almost a sob…

 

I deliberately kept my eyes downcast to give Sylvia time to collect herself. Resisting the urge to elbow Nik for a smile was a good distraction. She must have sensed my mischief, because her mouth curled the faintest bit.

 

Honestly, I almost giggled at the subtle interplay. There had been a time when I’d been quite fond of the older woman. One more thing to regret about my past.

 

Sylvia stood with a sigh and Nik and I were all business again, postures erect, eyes forward. “I’m retiring to my chambers for the time being. Arrange things and debrief me when I return.”

 

++ Nicole ++

 

The moment my Queen disappeared behind her chamber doors, Leonacouer groaned as if in pain. I broke training and protocol to glance over as she collapsed onto her back and scrubbed at her face. “This sucks.”

 

I silently agreed. Sylvia was not good with surprises. Control was her MO, rigid and implacable control. Leonacouer could be like that too, but had a childishly playful side that was irresistible. Like now, sprawled on her back like a disconsolate puppy.

 

“So now what?”

 

That’s what I had been waiting for, permission to put my business skills to work. Before Sylvia had irrevocably altered my life’s path, I had been an executive secretary at a huge law firm. The skills were kept sharp by my Mistress’ needs. I daringly slouched into a sloppy sit next to Leonacouer, who I could once dare to call Dace, sometimes. A strange and informal gift to one such as myself. “You’ll need a plane ticket.”

 

“I think the FBI can spring for that.”

 

“No, no trail back to them. After all of this is over they can reimburse us.” A grin at Dace won me a sparkling smile. “I’ll keep the receipt. Technically, we could send you on the company jet, but this is kind of last second.”

 

“Okay, you win. Lead the way.” Dace teased me, knowing perfectly well that I had no desire for being in charge. There was a reason I became a full-time submissive. ‘Real Life’, the way most people saw it, was utterly unappealing to me. Fortunately, my Mistress had given me an order to get Dace’s trip arranged. So I could get on with my task.

 

Ducking away from Dace’s bright leonine gaze, I got to my feet and went to the computer. The Chess Red company was a massive corporate communications enterprise that ensured the right people and organizations found one another. Much like a monstrous dating service for businesses. Beneath the seamless and slick exterior was a deeper and darker layer that was Sylvia’s true love. For her connections were not just based in the business venture. The bulk of them were clients of two sorts.

 

An outsider would see a corporate matchmaker in action. An outsider would think I was a slick executive secretary to the woman in charge. They would only be half right.

 

With a quick trip to the internet and a few passwords and credit card numbers, Dace’s ticket confirmation was printing up. It was a business first class seat, of course, and in addition to luxury, would eliminate some of the hassles at the airport. “Would you like me to have a car sent to your home?”

 

“When?”

 

“Your flight leaves at eight thirty. So perhaps about six?”

 

“Yeah, that’ll work. It’s about one now, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I didn’t need the address, Sylvia still had that information. Just because Leonacouer hadn’t been part of our family for some time now, didn’t mean that Sylvia hadn’t kept tabs on her. Sylvia had hundreds, perhaps thousands of names, addresses and gigs of pertinent information memorized and sequestered away in a vault only five people had access to. Privacy was deadly serious in this organization.

 

++ Dace ++

 

I dawdled there for some time, sprawled on the floor. It gave me a chance to relax before the shit hit the fan, and kind of meditate on what I was getting myself into. It had been a long time since I had played my role as Leonacouer, the Lioness Heart, but she was awakening to the need. In time, I got bored with being so sprawled out and relaxed and had Nicole walk me back to my bike. Our combined presence would speak volumes to those in the know.

 

Impulsively, I grabbed the older woman in a bear hug while the Harley hummed throatily. “Miss you,” I whispered and she fiercely hugged me back.

 

“Oh Dace, I miss you too. Please be careful.”

 

“I promise.”

 

It hurt more than I would have thought to drive away. Mixed feelings were old news to me, but my emotions were at tornado velocities right now.

 

Magda had already agreed to come over to my place a few times a week to get my mail and feed my fish. Much as I had always wanted interactive pets, my schedule had never allowed it. Someday I would have cats and dogs and ferrets and god else knew what. I checked to make certain that there were plenty of food blocks for the fish and smiled at the thought of my future furry family. 

 

In less than two hours, all the meager perishables in the apartment had been eaten, everything was locked down, my complex’s management office knew that a friend would be watching my place and I was packed to go. For the sake of perversity, I had decided to go in full character. That meant pulling out my oldest and most well-loved set of leathers and rubbing oil into them to make up for three years of neglect. A quick check relieved my anxiety that they still fit. All the boxing workouts had kept me lean and strong. The buttery, almost-black cowhide really brought me fully into what I was embarking on. 

 

When my work partner had bailed out on me after that damned intervention, I had withdrawn into myself. The physical proof was that my hair had grown out to an irritating length. I was tired of being pissed at Angela, it took too much energy, and I made a mental note to get a trim when I had the time. Then I climbed into the shower to warm up and get relaxed.

 

A few choice toys were wedged in with the week’s worth of clothes in my compact travel bag. They should give airport security a thrill. But not half as much as the rig I strapped snugly around my hips. All silicone, nylon, plastic and velcro, it wouldn’t set off any sensors, but it damn well better get some eyebrows! Then there were silk boxers, levis thin and silky with age and a plain while t-shirt. It was strange to feel the tug and pressure of the harness around my hips as I dressed.

 

I loved packing. It was for the shock value of the bulge just as much as my state of mind as providing pleasure to women. The inky chaps slid effortlessly up my legs and I buckled up the heavy silver buckle. A few tugs at my pant legs to get everything settled and I pulled on perhaps the most important physical part of my Leonacouer persona.

 

When I was almost sixteen, recently emancipated by the state of California, newly trained and tattooed by the Four Suits and ready to be more than just a student to Sylvia, I took all the money I’d squirreled away and gone shopping. In a funky little hole in the wall shop in Little Tokyo, there was a man who made shoes. He crafted the boots I still owned almost eighteen years later. The crazy old shaman assured me that the leather was from a fine stallion of great virility, the heels of thin, glued layers from an aged oak branch that washed up on a rugged Washington shore from the Pacific Ocean, the heavy rawhide soles from a wild bull in China, the string from cotton and hemp he had lovingly grown himself. Whether he was humoring me or telling me the truth, there was something magical about the square-toed and unadorned boots. All I had ever needed to have repaired was the rubber skin along ball and heel to improve my footing. I had added the bracelets later. The first collar Sylvia had given me, the links thick and plated with silver nickel that didn’t tarnish had been modified into the chain on my dominant foot, the right. My best bud, Bane, had somehow managed to track down a second chain that so closely matched the first that one had to look very, very closely to see that they were, in fact, slightly different. It was still one of my most cherished gifts. A strip of doubled pigskin over the top of my feet held the chains in place around heel and arch. The subtle chime of the chains against the oak heels was sublime. Many a woman had worshiped these boots and they helped define who I am.

 

Shaking off the nostalgia, I yanked the zippers on the calves of my chaps so that they hugged closer to my legs and gave the boots a mysterious look where they peeked out, flashing black and silver. I had deliberately forgone a bra, so that the occasional peek of erect nipple would confuse the watcher. I’d always thought I was too girly-pretty to pass in actual drag, so I liked playing up the contrast of feminine and masculine. Goddamn, but I missed this. Just wearing the leathers and the phallus made me feel completely different.

 

There was no belt in the frayed loops of my Levi’s, leaving me feeling a little naked and incomplete. I would acquire a new one in Chicago, and a willing woman to help me break it in. I wanted it bathed with love, in smooth coltsfoot oil and hot sweat and saliva.

 

A knock at the door sent me scrambling into my play jacket, the ace of diamonds and the red chess king highlighted by a pair of ghostly lion’s eyes painted across my back. At my door was a meek young woman in impeccable chauffeur’s digs. Any doubt where she was from was offset by the red diamond on her immaculate suit coat. “Ma’am,” she demurred softly and I imperiously gestured at my wheeled case and garment bag. My small bag would stay with me.

 

The trip to the airport passed in silence while I pondered and the nameless Sub did her job. Bless Nicole for sending someone who didn’t know me. There was no need for conversation. Hopefully, the trip to Chicago would be as spectacularly uneventful.

 

++ the chauffeur ++

 

I knew who the woman in the backseat was. She was still whispered about in the halls of Chess Red with tones of flustered awe. Most of us in the newest generation of the Scene had never met her.

 

But we’d certainly heard the stories.

 

About two hours ago, Nicole had pulled me aside and very gravely gave me my instructions. ‘The Leonacouer’ rang in my head, dizzying me while I dressed and took the car out to do as instructed. The Leonacouer was everything I dreamed about and so much more. Only the Red Queen herself intimidated me the way this tall, pale goddess did. I sweated with awareness every time that blistering gaze settled on me. 

 

It was a nerve-wracking drive to the airport.

 

At last the great parking structures loomed up and the signs directed me to where I needed to go. My task was nearly complete and I could return to the building secure that I had done as instructed.

 

“Pull into the parking garage.” The quiet demand froze me for a split second. This could only mean one thing and I was as excited as I was terrified. I handed over some money that was always in the company car and made certain to get a receipt. The parking garage was fairly empty and I chose a spot that was a distance away from the other vehicles, but not suspiciously so, as well as being away from foot traffic. Then I wasn’t certain exactly what she wanted from me and I was too terrified to guess. A jarring kick to the back of the seat was a none-to-subtle clue. “Do you need an engraved invitation, slut? Get your ass back here.”

 

That’s all I needed to hear. Scrambling from my seat, I went to the back and knelt on the floor. It was an older model Lincoln Town Car that had been modified so that there was a larger floorspace. This was my place. The Leonacouer was sprawled back, her legs splayed and I timidly ran my eyes over her legs. The bulge at her crotch was clearly outlined and my mouth watered.

 

As a teen, I was a typical cheerleader type and had no clue what I was to become. A chance meeting at a club showed me what I really needed and I had been working hard to prove myself as a submissive every since. That was how I came to be in the employ of the Red Queen and kneeling at the feet of her once-successor. 

 

“Show me what I’ve been missing,” Leonacouer instructed in a voice of whispered steel. 

 

“Yes ma’am,” I whispered and pulled the chauffeur’s cap off so that it wasn’t crushed. That indolent, arrogant gaze rested heavily on me and I knew I would get no help from my tormentor. Fortunately, I could get to the basics because she was slouched down so far. Nuzzling against a leather-encased thigh, I felt the Lioness shift and a boot heel dug into my ass.

 

“C’mon pussycat, quit being so chickenshit. If you run out of time, I’m gonna be way more pissed than if you use your hands.”

 

Ah well, no showing off my talented mouth on buckles, but there were other reasons that the Chess Red organization kept me around! I was excited by this stranger and her callous attitude towards me. So I yanked the buckle on her chaps open and went for the button-fly levis with mouth-watering enthusiasm. Leonacouer merely chuckled and wiggled around to both help and hinder me. I loved it. 

 

From the smooth leather to the soft cotton jeans to the silky boxers in a gorgeous electric blue, my hands wandered over the textures and aroused the skin beneath. At least I hoped I was. So I dipped my thumbs down into the open ‘v’ of her button-flys and relished her body heat. Man, she was a furnace! I stroked the firm curve of the dildo between her legs because I knew she was watching me closely. A flash-sense of impatience and I hurriedly brought the shaft out the fly of the boxers and felt the press of something thin and small against my head from her. Duh, a condom! I tore the foil and pressed it over the round head before using my mouth to roll it down.

 

“That’s a girl,” the Leonacouer purred and I stroked the groove of her inner thigh as I massaged the decent-sized toy with my throat and tongue. I loved doing this when it pleased my Top. That it was an artificial attachment made little difference if it was used with love. And I poured everything I had in suckling the shaft, coiling tongue and grasping lips transmitting my adoration to this stranger. “Give me your primary hand.” It took a moment for the words to register, I was so involved with the blowjob, but I gave her my left hand. The soft white glove was pulled away and I was abruptly cuffed hard enough to throw me back down the dick and nearly bruise my throat. “Don’t fuck around pussycat! If you can’t multi-task, then you don’t deserve that diamond on your chest!”

 

Shit! She was, of course, absolutely right and I threw myself to my task as though I had flesh and blood in my mouth. Latex was stretched over my hand, nestling seductively into the webbing between my fingers and snapping shut around my wrist. A crushingly hard grip around my three primary fingers nearly brought tears to my eyes. 

 

“Get on your back.” I scrambled to obey as she half-stood within the confines of the car. Her eyes glittered like a predator’s in the dimness and I knew I would do anything for her. In a moment, her clothing was loosened around the wagging phallus and she was straddling my head. There was no need for instruction as I opened my mouth for her again. Her fingers stroked those same three fingers and pinched at the latex-encased webbing of my hand until the pain aroused me fiercely. “Now, get in there and finish this off before I miss my flight. Earn your keep, slut.” 

 

This is where I belonged, used callously for another woman’s pleasure, every move orchestrated by her needs. Nothing else was important. With her thrusting slowly and deeply into my mouth, I found her wet hole with the fingers she had chosen and slid deep within her heat. This was an unexpected pleasure and I relished the oven warmth as the Lioness set the pace. Every thrust brought her package deep within me and my fingers deep within her. I stroked and curled tongue and fingers to deepen her pleasure and she moaned oh-so-softly.

 

That sound was heavenly and I nearly wept. This was a dream come true, to be shown that I was pleasing her. Blissful minutes inside of her clinging cunt climaxed in a flexing grip I relished and her breathy groan I relished even more. “If I fuck you,” Leonacouer asked quietly, still buried in my throat almost suffocating tight. “Will you take it in the spirit given?”

 

Pulling her hips back, my fingers and throat were abandoned. She was curious now, the glitter of pale eyes bright beneath the fringe of blonde hair. I was fairly certain that I knew what she meant and took a chance at speaking. “Yes ma’am. Not for my pleasure, but yours. I will not take your attentions to give me an ego, I promise. May I have permission to enjoy myself? Please ma’am?”

 

A feral grin flashed and I knew I would have a few more good memories of this encounter. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t. Now get on your knees and let me see that ass.”

 

I scrambled to obey. Before I was even settled, her hands had reached around me and popped the button on my slacks and yanked the zipper down. I hunched up my back so that I could tuck my head between my supporting arms and let my upper shoulders bang into the door instead of my neck or skull. I had a feeling I was in for a rough ride. 

 

Leonacouer yanked my pants down around my knees and I waggled my butt just a bit. A sharp slap cracked painfully across my skin. “Don’t be gettin’ all sexy,” she growled and I moaned. The thong was tugged away from my wet heat and whispered down my thighs.

 

And I was impaled.

 

It was perfect, her firm dick deep in my hungry cunt, her fingers painfully digging into my hips. Thrusting like a madman, she reamed me and left me crying out in delight. She could maneuver that dick in ways that no man could ever hope to equal. They took their equipment for granted, but Leonacouer used hers like a privilege. I was in heaven and happily sang for her.

 

It was hard and raw, leaving me hollering and clenching blissfully around my invader. Certainly not what I had expected from my errand! Pulling out, she smacked me across my ass and I squeaked happily.

 

“Get dressed,” she growled. “And get your ass in gear.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

We both rustled back into our clothes and I gathered up her luggage once more.

 

Ah well... back to business!

 

++ Dace ++

 

We made all due haste into the airport terminal, diverting away from the masses to a discrete business entrance off the beaten path. My appearance did indeed earn double takes from the staff and half-dozen waiting passengers. After the relaxing romp in the car, I was no longer in the mood for it and tossed my driver’s license onto the counter without a word. The man there peeled his gawk away long enough to do his job and print up my boarding pass. “Have a good flight Miss DeLorenzo,” he told me weakly and waved me off to the awaiting security officer. With 9-11 a close shadow, I was expecting more fuss at the airport and made a mental note to thank Nicole for the privacy and convenience of this business entrance.

 

After my sweet little driver checked my bags, she handed me the tags and gave me a kittenishly flirtatious pout. Feeling magnanimous, I gave her a long, slow kiss and let my hand roam leisurely over her fine ass. A quick dip between her thighs earned a low groan. “Good job,” I purred and gave her a final squeeze before sending her off with a fond shove. “Now go home and preen.” With a happy smile, the girl saluted me and was off with a bounce in her step. I glowered at the shocked looks and stalked over to the awaiting security guard.

 

This time it was a woman and I glared her down. “If I freak you out so damn bad,” I snarled menacingly. “Get someone else. I have no time to screw around.” Normally, I wasn’t so damn rude, but I had forgotten how scandalized people could get. Then again, I had learned to focus that shock into something I could enjoy. So I put those lessons to good use and struck an arrogant pose. “Or would you like a better look?”

 

With my keys and ID in the little basket, the only thing that set off her sensor wand was the buckle on the chaps. I was smart enough to not bring a service pistol on my person. That was taken care of with my bags. The security guard had a tough time keeping her eyes off the bulge and I was perversely amused by the whole thing.

 

There was no chance that anyone was going to actually speak to me on the flight, so I put the portable MP3 player to work and dozed lightly. It didn’t last long, as the plane suddenly dropped sickeningly and someone cried out over the noise of the massive vehicle groaning in protest.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some turbulence,” the pilot droned and I growled.

 

“No shit, Sherlock.” My muttered comment earned a grin from the rumpled businessman clinging tightly to his laptop and cocktail on the other side of the walkway.

 

“Please remain in your seats until instructed by your attendants.”

 

Now, I didn’t suffer from motion sickness, but my inner ear was objecting violently to the jostling. It was a rollercoaster tens of thousands of feet above the ground.

 

It was a very, very long flight to O’Hare airport.

 

**To Be Continued...**


	4. House of Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that events are moving ahead, Dace gets to Chicago. Once there, she meets up with some old friends and makes a few new ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal disclaimer: Jane and Steph are mine.
> 
> Author notes: The Vince Scully being the voice of God in LA, if memory serves correct, is nearly a direct quote from an interview with Chris Carter. I distinctly remember that he said that it was this icon that gave his name for our lovely red-head agent.
> 
> Disclaimer: “Xena Warrior Princess”, Created by Rob Tapert, produced by MCA Television entertainment, Renaissance Pictures, Studios USA Television and Universal TV.
> 
> Spoilers: Remember, The X-Files as we know it, does not exist in this alternate universe. Mulder, Scully and Reyes are in their original FBI jobs as profiler, forensics and field agent. Also, the uber-Xena is not a new concept, but this is my take on it.

++ Jane Pappas ++

 

(1-5-02)

 

I sighed unhappily at the blinking ‘delayed’ on the arrivals screen. Dammit, I was gonna be here all night from this damn ice storm rolling in. But Gramps had asked me to do this favor for him and I never turned the man down. Now, why he asked me to bring along Steph, I had no clue. Hell, I didn’t even know who I was picking up. He had only smiled in that benign, teasing way of his and told me, “oh trust me, you’ll know.”

 

Silverback never did anything without a damn good reason, so I trusted him and watched for flight 1247 from San Francisco. It made me think about how sad my benefactor had been to lose the Red Queen and then watch his old friends drift apart. Hell, even the Lady hardly rang anymore. Then again, he’d seemed awfully happy about the mystery guest, so perhaps this was a portent of good news. It was well after midnight and there were only a few people waiting. Steph had dozed off an hour ago, but I was too keyed up with curiosity and being in a strange place. It had been years since I had picked up a client at the airport, as I was far up enough on the food chain to be above this kind of scut work.

 

The only other resident of note was a small, compact woman with flaming red hair and an air about her that had my subversive side perking up in interest. Oh, she was a cool customer, this one. Dressed in an expensive and impeccable business suit, she carried herself like a predator. Fascinating.

 

The screen suddenly changed to a blinking 1:35, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The pilot must have snuck in just ahead of the storm. Sweet. 

 

After some time, I was woken from my half-doze by the murmur of voices and I jumped to my feet after smacking Steph awake. “C’mon, it’s down.”

 

Grumbling incoherently, Steph clambered to her feet and nearly tripped herself in the process. My second-in-command had been working too hard lately. New Year’s was a blow out at the clubs and we were still recovering. And that insane attack on those two leatherdykes had the Scene scared and quiet all the sudden. I hated it. Why the hell did some asshole pockets of humanity feel the need to impose themselves on others? Drove me nuts...

 

People were coming down the tunnel that led from the jet. And I shrugged off my internal rant. Which one was the person I was supposed to recognize?

 

I spotted the movement of a heavy leather jacket and chaps and was proud to see it, so public like this. A flash of gold hair, the familiar lanky body…

 

By Aphrodite’s gauzy skirt...

 

Recognition dawned and I cried out in delight before I could stop myself.

 

“Dace!”

 

++ Dana Scully ++

 

The shout startled me, but not unduly so. Airports always brought out people’s most extreme behaviors. I almost grinned at the startled look on the Hell’s Angel woman that was the receiving end of the flying tackle. Ignoring them, I hoisted my sign to chest level and watched the crowd exiting the plane.

 

Then I realized something.

 

Bet that tall woman in the motorcycle leathers was who I was looking for. It would fit the subculture we were dealing with. She didn’t appear to be looking for anyone but her talkative friend, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Mulder had forgotten to let her know that she was getting a ride. The small blonde gave up her grip on the tall one to let her curly-haired buddy come over and get a hello.

 

Only she didn’t just get a hug.

 

It was probably a good thing that Mulder hadn’t come himself to pick DeLorenzo up. He struck me as being a typical perverted male. The women kissed like they went way back. Again, I wasn’t surprised, due to the nature of the case.

 

Then the tall woman spotted me and her double-take was comical. She gestured to her friends to stay put and stalked over to me. There was no other word for it. She moved like a cat, loose-limbed and dangerous. It was fascinating and a little frightening. I had to force myself not to step back as she slithered well into my personal space, looming over me. Sparkling sapphire eyes bored into mine and her smile was slow and sensual. “You know, I have a pretty distinctive name. Are you looking for me?”

 

Normally, I would be offended by this total lack of professionalism, but there was something compelling about her feral charm. “I recognize your voice from the phone. I’m Agent Mulder’s partner on this case.”

 

Her smile deepened. “Do you have a name? After all, you already know mine.”

 

“Dana Scully.”

 

Now she looked utterly delighted. “Like Vince Scully?”

 

Puzzled, I cocked my head curiously at her. “Who?”

 

Her exaggerated look of shock made me grin faintly. “You don’t know Vince Scully? He’s only one of the most famous radio announcers ever. He was like the Voice of God in LA. I grew up listening to Dodgers baseball games.” Now I had to smile for real, impossibly charmed by this stranger. Even if I hardly had a clue what she was talking about. Suddenly she went all gentle, her voice low, charming and faintly apologetic. “Hey, Dana Scully, I need you to play along with me for the benefit my pals over there.” The engaging smile deepened, and I was shocked to find myself grinning helplessly back. “Unless you’d like to explain to them the real reason I’m here.”

 

“Play along?” I parroted, hardly recognizing the teasing note in my voice.

 

“Trust me,” she purred seductively and I found myself doing just that.

 

I even managed not to jerk away when she leaned down to kiss me.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Knowing that Tarzan and Cheetah were watching, I had to make up why the hell this severely dressed woman was looking for me. Ah hell, I liked kissing strange women. Especially cool, gorgeous red-heads. Agent Scully stiffened when I bent down and covered her gorgeous full mouth with my own, but otherwise didn’t move. Rubbing soothing circles on the small of her back, I coaxed her to relax. Fortunately, the Amazons were positioned in such a way that they couldn’t get a really good view and I was able to keep it chaste. “See? No tongue,” I teased quietly before straightening up and getting back to business. “Thanks for meeting me here. Let me arrange a time to meet my friends and I’ll be right with you.”

 

“Okay,” she hummed back quietly, full mouth turned up in a faint smile. Plucking the name card from her fingers, I stalked back over to the two Amazons.

 

“I suppose I should have told Silverback that I was meeting someone here. Of course, I never actually spoke to him. I’m sorry guys. Can I meet you somewhere later?” I temporized while folding up the card to hide my real name. Oh, Jane probably knew it, but I had to attempt to keep both my allure and daylight life intact. Jane sighed dramatically and waved expansively at the world in general.

 

“You always did have a thing for redheads in business drag. I’ll have you know, Dace, that we waited here half the night. You owe me.”

 

Oh, the fierceness never reached her eyes, which danced with humor. I made a great show of looking penitent, batting my eyelashes and pouting. “I promise. Where do I find you two?”

 

“There’s a new Amazon district on the south end. Just have a cabbie take you to Club Staff and Scroll in Cook County. If you can’t find one of us, look for Pony or Sally.”

 

I was pleased that my closest Amazon buddies were still around. “Excellent. Hey, Tarzan, give me a number to contact you.” Resisting the urge to glance over at my FBI contact, I held Jane’s curious blue-green eyes. “I think it might be important.” There was a subtle knowledge in her wise gaze. Very little escaped Jane Pappas’ notice. Very little. It was no coincidence that I had shown up right after the attack in her city. Steph, who still wouldn’t meet my gaze, produced a pen, and Jane scrawled a phone number on the card that bore my hated married name. Why the hell hadn’t I ditched the stupid four syllable mouthful along with the sham of a marriage? That reminded me, I had to contact my divorce lawyer and make sure that ugly business was still on track. Jane’s voice jerked me from my thoughts. 

 

“That’s my personal cell. Guard it with your life.” She was only half kidding and I knew it. “I’ll be keeping an ear out for you.” And they were gone, just like that.

 

Sighing at the pressure bearing down on me, I scrubbed both hands over my face for a moment, feeling the brush of the card stock on my skin. Then I gave my silent companion a weary look. “I’m all yours, Scully.”

 

++ Fox Mulder ++

 

I had been tracking this guy nearly from the beginning. His MO was so distinctive that I was able to zero in on Chicago within hours of the attack. All over the coffee table was all of my files on the serial that I’d dubbed ‘Snake-Eyes’. There was something different about this nut, and I had been in the profiling business for a very, very long time. There was something about the way he stalked and killed that was so animal-like that he kept me fascinated. Not to mention the unusual commonality of his victims. 

 

February 12,1998, Detroit. The first attack, a gay female couple leaving a leather bar, was classified as a random hate crime at the time. September 6,1998, New York. Two men this time, again both leather players, and once more classified as a random hate crime. January 23,1999, Boston. Two women again, same circumstances. August 14,1999, Miami. Two men, same thing. March 13,2000, Atlanta, two women. September 23,2000, Denver, two men. February 4,2001, Las Vegas, another pair of women. July 18,2001, Vancouver, BC, two men. And now, January 3,2002, Chicago.

 

What was driving this man? He was obviously viciously angry, but he was also astonishingly adept at what he was doing. Multiple victims beaten to death, some only a few meters from other people, and there were no witnesses. Nothing. The brass back in DC wanted this one done by the book, but I had other ideas.

 

A key in the door snapped my attention up. It was Agent Scully, who’d I asked along due to her forensics expertise and flawless reputation at the FBI training facility at Quantico. Behind her was a tall, striking figure looming behind her. “Agent Mulder, I’d like you to meet Inspector Candace DeLorenzo,” my new partner introduced the towering blonde Amazon.

 

“Fox Mulder,” I forced myself to murmur politely, trying not to stare. A slow grin spread over her fine features and her grip was painfully strong.

 

“Call me Dace,” she purred and turned away to flop down on the couch. Abruptly, she was all business, despite the wardrobe. Was that a manly-lookin’ bulge in her jeans? “So, fill me in.”

 

“I’m a profiler for the FBI and this guy caught my eye about a year and a half ago. The only link I have is the victims. A few random hits on the leather community could go unnoticed, but it’s the same way every time. A gay couple, killed within shouting distance of a favorite club or playhouse. No witnesses, no one ever hears a thing, even though the victims are savagely beaten.” While I spoke calmly, Dace’s expression never changed, but her eyes darkened. “There doesn’t appear to be any pattern to who the victims were outside of their nocturnal lives, nor any similar body type, or coloring.”

 

“Only the leather Scene.”

 

“Exactly. All of the details are in these folders. The only thing I could figure out from reconstructing the victim’s movements, is that they all commented to friends that they felt as though they were being stalked, but nothing could ever be proven. Whoever this perp is, he’s invisible.”

 

Dace eyed me sharply. “Invisible?”

 

“Not literally, of course, but it’s astonishing that no one has ever seen or heard anything. Until Sandy Lopez.”

 

“Magda’s sister.”

 

“Yes. She’s the first concrete link we have to this man. There will be a sketch artist in town later today to talk to Sandy and there are four agents guarding her and the primary vic, Sylvia Dale, around the clock. I won’t lose either of them or this guy again. There’s far too much to lose. No one’s ever gotten a good look at our serial before. Even the few clues I’ve managed to gather from friends and acquaintances is that the victims were merely uneasy. There was nothing concrete.”

 

“Until they turned up dead.”

 

“Exactly. The half-dozen comments were all along the lines of, ‘he/she felt like she was being watched, or stalked, like animals do.’ It’s not an uncommon symptom of a stalker, to induce those kind of feelings, but I just have a gut instinct that there’s more to this guy than that.”

 

“Does he have a name?” Dace asked quietly as she leafed through the files, not looking at me. I was taken aback by the question.

 

“I have no idea who he is. I’ve dubbed him Snake-Eyes.”

 

“Snake-Eyes,” Dace mused thoughtfully.

 

++ Dace ++

 

I’d heard every word, but was concentrating on the photos and documentation. At least the various crime scene units in all the cities had been thorough. There were dozens and dozens of photos, all of them painfully gory. These people had died simply because of their recreation. Whoever this Snake-Eyes was, he was brutally violent and obviously fiercely strong. Some of the photos were barely recognizable as human. “No sexual crime?”

 

“No. He merely kills them.”

 

Suddenly, Agent Scully jumped into the conversation. “In fact, the victims suffered as little as possible for this kind of crime. There was no indication of torture. Snake-Eyes just wants them dead, not to make them suffer needlessly. The behavior certainly smacks of a hunting animal. If he took trophies from his victims, it was something very discrete.”

 

I counted seventeen victims, plus a woman hooked up to a multitude of medical equipment, and a battered doppelganger of Magda. The dates on the photos were all in July, August and September for the male vics, and January, February and March for the women. “You’re sure it was just these eighteen?”

 

“Snake-Eyes is pretty consistent about when he kills. However, I did search VICAP for similar MOs and nothing matched closely enough. The Canada hit was nearly overlooked, but better communication between law enforcement agencies was one of the few good things to come out of nine-eleven.”

 

Scanning the main folder, I noted that he had hit Vancouver nearly two months before the terrorist attack in New York, and this new hit in Chicago was the most recent. “I agree that this Snake-Eyes certainly isn’t looking for attention. Though he could hardly ask for a more controversial group of victims.” I sounded bitter even to my own ears and Agent Mulder eyed me with sympathy and wariness.

 

“I think that may have something to do with why he chooses them. And why only gay couples? Not an easy target.”

 

“Could that be why he does it?”

 

“I have no doubt. The real question is, why does he do it at all? So far, my strongest theory is the animal one.”

 

Something rumbled deep in the darkest shadows of my soul. The great, tawny cat that had haunted my dreams since before I could remember blinked out from the darkness and I shivered. As a kid, I had told my mother about the dream-cat. At first she’d patronized me about it. Then something about the whole thing suddenly scared the hell out of her and she’d forbidden me to even mention the cat. For years I’d forced myself not to acknowledge the golden eyes that I could actually feel the weight of. 

 

Sylvia had acknowledged the power of the cat, but no one could understand how real she felt to me. Now she was rumbling with a soft, fierce threat deep in my guts.

 

No, this was not the first time I wondered after my own sanity.

 

++ Dana ++

 

Dace was staring sightlessly at the photos, her mind far, far away. There was a subtle change across her body language, and when Mulder moved to speak, I stopped him with a gesture. In the quiet of the room, Dace’s breathing shifted, becoming deep and slow, the air whirring softly through her nose. A strange sound trembled there, a nearly soundless growl that made my bones vibrate in sympathy. The play of her body wasn’t the person I had met at the airport, but a hunched, ready slouch.

 

My mother had cats as companions, and damned if Dace didn’t look just like one of them coiling up to pounce.

 

“Dace,” I spoke quietly, but firmly. And when her gaze jerked up, for the briefest instant, I swear her eyes gleamed gold. Then the blue blinked and the brain behind the eyes reasserted itself. “Are you okay?”

 

The faint growl faded, and once more Dace DeLorenzo breathed as though she was a bipedal human, not some great cat trapped in a human body. Clearing her throat, she spoke in a tense voice. “I have a sneaking suspicion that this case may hit closer to home than any of us realize.”

 

After that strange interaction, the briefing went much more smoothly as Mulder passed on what he knew of Snake-Eyes. I tossed in the occasional comment, but mostly observed our new helper. There was something fiercely magnetic about her. Eventually we were all yawning in the wee hours of morning and crept off to separate rooms in the big hotel suite.

 

With just a few hours of sleep under my belt, I headed back to the hospital, my thoughts on the enigma of Dace. The staff of Cook County General barely acknowledged me, still pale and shaken by what had happened to a close friend. I didn’t know exactly what role Sandy Lopez played in this hospital, being a firefighter, but it was an important one. When I checked in with the security detail, I learned more. Agent Gray rubbed her eyes wearily, dropping her guard for just a moment while I watched her back. “Nothing happened ma’am. Per your orders, only the three designated female staff has been allowed to see the victims. The story of Dale dying broke this morning.”

 

“Good job,” I praised the younger agent, sympathetic to her exhaustion. Few things could be more boring than guarding two bed-ridden victims. And few things could be more stressful than knowing someone was still hunting them. “Your relief should be here soon.” Gray smiled wearily and pulled herself back together to once again play guard dog. As much as no one had wanted to do it, Silver Dale had been moved to a private room in a mostly-empty outpatient wing. Barely alive from the violent beating she’d taken, the blonde woman looked fragile amidst all the ICU equipment. I quickly checked her over, and documented the new and deeper bruising that had shown up in the last fourteen hours or so. Poor woman…

 

Sandy Lopez was watching me soberly as I stepped around the curtain to her half of the room. The severely shattered arm was lashed tight into traction, her entire upper body held immobile by the equipment. The white gauze contrasted starkly with her Hispanic coloring and the spot of seeping blood above her covered left eye. “Mornin’,” Lopez said quietly and I met her one-eyed gaze. So much pain there. I hated my job some days… “How is she doing?”

 

“Stable. I wish I could tell you more, but her injuries are so extensive that I still can’t believe she was able to walk to your car.”

 

Wincing, Sandy lowered her gaze for a long moment, before she could look at me again. “You said there would be a sketch artist in? Because if I don’t do this soon, I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to do it at all.” The heartbeat monitor began to pick up and I hurriedly moved to calm her.

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Take this at your own pace. We all know that you’ve been through a horrible trauma and we’re sympathetic to that. Yes, there’s a hurry to this, but not to the extent that it damages you further.”

 

“Thanks,” Sandy whispered thickly, squeezing my comforting hand. “Hey, Agent Scully, do you think my girlfriend can visit me?” I must have winced, because Sandy actually smiled faintly. “She’s an OB doctor in this hospital, Joan Golfino. If you guys could make an excuse to why she might be in here, I’d really like to see her.”

 

Now I understood why the staff looked so upset. Sandy was more than just a fellow soldier for the cause of public safety. “How could I refuse such a heartfelt plea? You just leave it to me.”

 

I stuck around with Sandy until a frantic woman who stood at least as tall as Mulder rushed in. Sobbing Sandy’s name, she dropped into the chair beside the bed and I discretely left the room for a few minutes to give them some privacy. Then the sketch artist showed up and the next phase began.

 

++ Dace ++

 

My dreams had been full of great leaping cats, her eyes flashing gold and diamonds in the green-tinged dimness of my mindscape. When I was a kid, I had a few therapy sessions and had tried to explain the way the inside of my head looked. Come to think of it, that was about the time mom forbade me to talk about the cat anymore. She was a cougar, because the first time I’d seen a picture, I’d screamed and dropped the picture book. Yeah, I was a strange kid. The flat, golden gaze, round pupils, dark ears and the mustache of black bracketing in the short, powerful muzzle. There was no mistaking the dream creature that had been with me all my life.

 

I was almost ten when I had firmly shut the dream cat out of my thoughts. By the time I’d grown disgusted enough to run away from home, she was silent. Once Sylvia allowed me to fully explore the more extreme corners of my personality, I had seen the low, tawny shape, the flash of yellow eyes. But not like this; not so strong that I could hear her breathing, growling, feel the press of paws in my brain and the tickle of thick fur.

 

This was so not the time for this! A nervous breakdown was perfectly understandable, but not now! Magda’s desperate look haunted me, as did the photos of the victims. Why the cat was suddenly back was beyond me.

 

Unless…

 

Unless she had something to do with Snake-Eyes.

 

Could there be more people like me? I’d considered the possibility before. If there were others… it made sense that I should be drawn to them, right?

 

There was no sense in driving myself insane with these questions, so I scrambled from bed and did my morning routine. Mulder blinked in surprise as I swaggered into the room, once more fully in character. “I’m going to go meet up with my Chicago contacts in the Scene. I’ll call you if I learn anything.” Before he could say a word, I was gone.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	5. The King of Clubs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dace reintegrates herself with the House of Clubs, and breaks in a couple of sexy FBI agents to the cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG13. Little bit of potential violence, and the smut is building.
> 
> Personal disclaimer: Silverback and Tiny are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: “China Beach”, Produced by Sacret Inc. and Warner Bros. Television. Created by William Broyles Jr. and John Sacret Young.
> 
> *: Anyone recognize it? There’ll be a prize...
> 
> Spoilers: No. Unless you didn’t know that Monica Reyes was in New Orleans… and had visions. Oops, gave it away!  Remember, The X-Files as we know it, does not exist in this alternate universe. Mulder, Scully and Reyes are in their original FBI jobs as profiler, forensics and field agent.

++ Jesse ‘Silverback’ Flagg, the King of Clubs ++

 

There was no conceivable way that I could concentrate today, far too lost in memories to be any good to anyone. It had started back in the Vietnam War. As a frightened young man, drafted into the service of my country, I had seen and done horrific things. On the brink of insanity or suicide, I had found her.

 

KC Koloski, my whore with the heart of gold. Oh, everyone knew why she was there, or so they thought. Certainly the sexual favors we boys paid for were a stress release of sorts, but what I found far more valuable in KC, was a friend. She was a gem to be treasured by a guy like me. First and foremost, KC gave me a safe ear to talk too, a shoulder to cry on. She helped me realize my attraction to men, and helped me accept that about myself. With time and experimentation back home, I learned to relish it. We remained close after the war, as the sexual revolution boiled over into ‘polite’ society. Together, we attended rallies, marched in protest and ruffled feathers in general. Together we discovered our rougher needs and others that shared them. 

 

The growing leather Scene was our haven, and there was no better place to be in all the world than the Big Apple. We met Anastasia in those days and she became a soulmate of sorts to me, no matter that she was a woman! The thought made me smile. In college, we’d been drawn together, the towering jock and the waifish aristocrat from Virginia. We were quite the team both then and… well, we had been until these last few lonely years. Sylvia had drifted into our lives strictly through the Scene. She was fascinating in her icy calm as well as her vicious discipline techniques. I had always merely roughed my boys up when they displeased me, made them beg and cry for forgiveness. But what Sylvia could dredge up from a slave was poetry. We original three were good at what we did, and clever business folk to boot, but what Sylvia did was magic. As the seventies grew ripe and the eighties loomed on the horizons, we four truly began to gel.

 

The memory of those regular poker games in KC’s sprawling Village loft still made me smile. There was often a favored slave or four in attendance for our needs, and it was those interactions that taught us a valuable lesson. Each of us had strengths and weaknesses. I was a gruff father figure, but had no concept of the women’s finesse. KC had a rough, mean streak that scared seasoned Marines and street cops alike. Anastasia was a lady in every sense of the word and slaves learned manners and composure at her firm hand. Sylvia could teach the most extreme of behaviors with an iron fist wrapped in velvet. Her best made even old-school professional bodyguards admire their discretion and poise. 

 

So we began trading favorites on a regular basis. I had fond memories of Dace and Tessa and Bane, of the handful of beautiful men that KC and I had lost to the AIDS crisis, of watching my beloved Tiny gleam like an obsidian diamond once the others had finished honing him. Nearly two decades later, he was still envied in his flawlessness by Top and Sub alike.

 

We four friends became the four Suits of cards in those days, making it official in ‘84. I remembered the party well. Young Dace had been our self-imposed ‘final project’ to prove that we could do what we were setting out to do. The rebellious fifteen-year-old was a diamond in the rough, and was murderously hard to train without being able to dangle sexual fulfillment out as reward. Thankfully, she was as stubborn as her Mistress and the rest of us worked off of that. After perfecting Dace, we all went to our separate cities and began building the empires that were still expanding today. 

 

For fifteen years, we were in a golden age. Our various businesses flourished in the daylight world, and our leather empires in darkness grew more elaborate and refined. The players whispered of us in reverent tones and I was warm and satisfied by the power I held. 

 

And then… Sylvia began to change.

 

That was the beginning of the end. As she drew away, the rest of us drifted apart. The last three years had been the longest of my life. Certainly, my flock in Chicago was a wonderful family… but they weren’t my big sisters. None of them were quite my equals, none of them had started from the basement of the Scene when it was just a few kinky buddies. Most of the old guard had died or moved on, and I was desperately lonely.

 

Then came Sylvia’s call.

 

I was so stunned that I could barely speak. Sylvia did not apologize. Ever. It was a strength and a flaw both. When the reality sank in that she had indeed apologized, I readily agreed to accept a diplomatic visit from the one woman who could be her equal.

 

On cue, there was a soft knock at my door and I straightened up from my thoughtful slouch. Tiny knew I was not to be disturbed except by one person. “Enter!” I barked and the door swung wide. As the tall blonde woman stepped in, I realized something about this favored golden child.

 

She could easily become any one of our superiors.

 

++ Dace ++

 

I was delighted to see the big bear of a man I considered a father figure. But, in deference to our roles, I stepped up smartly to the desk, eyes on the wall behind his head and held the military-perfect posture I was taught long before I was legal to vote. “Silverback, sir,” I intoned crisply. “I bring word from the Red Queen.”

 

“I’m listening, pet,” he rumbled coolly and I was suddenly at a loss of what to say. Honestly, I hadn’t thought this far ahead. Some of the conflict must have shown on my face, because Silverback’s dark eyes gentled and he stood. Out of habit and many years of body memory, I flinched away slightly as he stepped in close. Gramps always did like a Sub to show a reaction to his power, and I remembered that clearly. “Might you have a hug for an old man?”

 

That was all the invitation I needed, and turned to throw my arms around his burly frame. “Oh Gramps,” I sniffled into his beard, overcome with emotions. “I’ve missed you.” The crush of his bear hug was a memory that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

 

“Mutual, pet,” he rumbled comfortingly. “Mutual. How shocked and how grateful I was to hear from Sylvia. And to find out that she was sending you of all people! Warms an old man’s heart. What have you been doing with yourself? Tell me everything!”

 

We flopped down onto the overstuffed leather couch and I took a deep breath. “Still an inspector in San Francisco. That’s what set all these events in motion. I volunteered to help the FBI find the killer that attacked those women.”

 

When Gramps looked almost sad at my explanation, I grabbed his arm and poured my heart out. “Please take Sylvia’s apology for what it is. Sincere. This case was merely the catalyst. And I would have come to see you, no matter what she had done.”

 

“Sweet child,” he sighed and smiled warmly at me, again gathering up my smaller body for a proper hug. “You truly are a gem. Tell me what’s going on. All of it.”

 

It never even occurred to me to leave anything out. I talked about Sandy and Magda, and the two FBI agents and seeing Sylvia again. I ranted about how familiar and how awkward I felt in my Leonacouer persona and how freaked I was about the cat and this mysterious killer. When Tiny showed up with lunch, a begging glance had Gramps waving me off with a chuckle. In an instant, I threw myself at the enormous black man, warmed by his crushing embrace and his bone-shaking deep laughter. These men had been instrumental in the person I had become. Leading with kindness, discipline and example, they had been inspirations to me.

 

I was truly beginning to understand just what an idiot I had been these past few years. I’d married a man I never really loved, but used as a final, desperate shot for ‘normalcy’. What a sick joke. It had given me an excuse to walk away from my life that the Four Suits had been a part of. Well, no more. Paul was out of my life for good and I was ready to again become my own person.

 

++ Steph ++

 

I was so damn worn out. Running Silverback’s minions was a busy life, but the rewards were well worth it. The backbone of the man’s empire were the Amazons. Taking on the name and code of those ancient warrior women suited us well. The fact that our king was really a queen, in the modern sense of the word, was acceptable. Sure as hell better than the life on the streets, or worse, that most of us had been destined for.

 

“C’mon, Cheetah,” Jane chortled as she sauntered past and I wearily rose to follow. Damn the woman for her boundless energy. I loved her to death, but there were times that she just made me feel old and tired. So I raked both hands through my curls and tried to act as though I was paying attention to my familiar surroundings. The Amazons were a mixed bag of women, all of us from less than ideal backgrounds, given purpose by Gramp’s organization. Bless the man.

 

And damn him for the surprise waiting in his office.

 

Had there ever been a time that I hadn’t had a hopeless crush on Leonacouer? Seeing her in the airport was bad enough, but in these familiar surroundings it was overwhelming. Her smug, knowing grin burned me from across the room.

 

“Here you are,” Gramps said with pleasure as Tiny closed the door behind us. “The Lioness Hearted bears good news, my favored protégés.”

 

Dace stood to give a respectful half-bow to Jane and nodded at me. Honestly, I couldn’t look her in the eye. Once we were all seated, the big blonde woman began speaking. “The Red Queen sent me to knit our empires back together. Tarzan, you’ll still inherit Chicago, unless things have changed since I’ve been incognito?”

 

“Nope. That’s why I’m here,” Jane replied easily.

 

“Good. Can I assume that Fenris is still inheriting from the Queen of Swords?”

 

“Yes. Are you re-entering service with the Red Queen?”

 

Thank all the ancient gods Jane had asked, because I was dying of curiosity. Hell, I even dared peek up to see Dace’s conflicted expression. “No,” the tall woman answered the question reluctantly. “I volunteered to come for the sake of the Suits, not for personal reasons. What further role I will play is still unknown.”

 

It was always so weird when Dace got all formal like this. Now that business was out of the way, Jane sprawled back in her chair to regard her lazily.

 

“Fair ‘nuff. Damn good to see you again, though. Maybe we’ll have to give you a few reasons to stick around for awhile.”

 

A hot glance from crystal blue eyes made me flush and drop my gaze.

 

“Oh, I can think of a few.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

Oh, I’d always enjoyed Steph a ton, and sure as hell wouldn’t mind some ‘recreation’ with her. There were a few things I needed to cover first. “So you two are still second and third in line, and I’m guessing that Brann is still Fenris’ shadow?”

 

“Exactly. Not that I’ve seen them in nearly as long as you, stranger,” Jane prodded and I sighed.

 

“I made some judgment calls that perhaps were not the wisest moves I could have made at the time. But there’s no turning back the clock now. Has Lady Heartsblood chosen a successor?”

 

“No. She’s still holding out for Bane.”

 

“Yeah, I gathered that from talking with her on the phone.” Thinking on the woman I called sister, the new wife popped into my head. Even having never met Darya face-to-face, there was something intriguing about her. The cat grumbled in fascination and pissy frustration over the enigma, and I was forced to smile. However, the daughter made her purr happily, and I filed the strange feeling away for later pondering. Shaking off the mental cobwebs, I refocused on the task at hand. “So, I suppose I can contact Tessa then.” Jane and Gramps chuckled at my faint distaste. I liked Tessa just fine, but it went against my training to contact a Sub for these kinds of needs. Ah well, Tessa was special. “A meeting should be arranged.”

 

“I agree,” Silverback said softly. “It will be good to have a reunion. Very good. Perhaps Chicago and the House of Clubs can pull out the stops for a party the likes the shadows have never seen! You leave Anastasia and Tessa to me, pet.”

 

It seemed only appropriate, as far back as they went. Since Fenris was a contemporary, despite her increased power, Jane would contact her. A few ideas for a party were bantered about, but we girls clammed up before we could reveal too much to Gramps.

 

A warm, if not slightly uncomfortable, quiet fell over the five of us. King, queen and jack, the most powerful cards in the deck. I was still technically an ace, having never accepted the responsibility that Sylvia had wanted so desperately for me to take. Jane was Silverback’s chosen successor, the Queen of Clubs. Steph was the next in line, leader of the Amazons, who acted as staff and enforcers to Silverback’s empire. She was the Jack of Clubs and the only one to have ever borne that title. The rank system based on the card deck was the signature of the Suits. The four leaders each had a favored Sub or two that bore the mark of the ace. I was the first with a single diamond, Tiny with a single club, Bane with a single heart, and Fenris with a single spade. Three of us had become Tops, but still bore our ace mark with pride. There were Subs since that bore the mark, like Racheal and Tessa.

 

“All this reminiscing is making me antsy,” I announced into a lull in our scattered conversation. And was gratified that Steph immediately flushed rosy. So I grinned flirtatiously and she smiled coy and shy.

 

Let the games begin.

 

++ Snake-Eyes ++

 

It was the smell of the leather that drew me to them.

 

They were favored prey.

 

Oh, there were two-legs that wore the skins, but not they way this prey did. The very… animal-ness these two-legs exhibited in their armor of death was a siren song to my need. They were mine to dominate, they were mine to chose from. 

 

Most of the time I was content to watch them at their games, steal from them, frighten them for both of our pleasures. And frighten them I did. Most were so terrified that the memory of me was a fleeting thing. They were prey to me and scattered before my superiority. 

 

The men were weakest as the weather began turning to autumn, the primitive parts of them responding to the traditional rut. The distastefully human part of me hated these men that sought the company of their own. That they dressed in the trophies of creatures they hadn’t slain and paraded about as though they thought they were my equal made them even easier to kill.

 

The women were weakest in the cold grip of winter, before the warmth of spring took hold. It would be the time that their primitive ancestors would suffer from the cold, the pregnant females drained from carrying their young all winter. Killing a pregnant one was distasteful to me, but fortunately there were plenty more to choose from in the seething mass of two-legs. The females were a particularly thrilling challenge. There were fewer of them than the males, and they were smarter, warier. It would take me months to pick a pair of them from the larger herd, and the hunt was even more exciting if I could sense that they were truly dangerous.

 

Slowly, I would circle in, skulking through the camouflage of crowded clubs and thundering music. It might take days or months to be in the perfect position to strike.

 

A failure could set me back for what felt like an eternity as I regained my bearings and began the hunt anew. Another human might disrupt my concentration, the off-putting smell of rubber masking the scent of my chosen prey, a chance that they might see me before the attack was sprung.

 

The sharp smell of their blood would drive me wild, the crushing of their bodies, the feel of their stark terror.

 

But something had changed in this swampy, icy city. My prey had been denied me by another worthless human and I was enraged. I should find the pale-haired prey and the dark one that pulled her out of my grasp. Only then would I regain complete control. 

 

But there was a scent on the air, someone musky and sweet and distracting.

 

Someone that might be just like me.

 

++ Monica Reyes ++

 

Color me surprised when I received a phone call requesting my expertise in Chicago. By the Bureau’s maverick and brilliant top profiler nonetheless. Ah well, at least it got me out of New Orleans for awhile. Too much strange energy there, it made me feel prickly inside. Mulder had spent the day briefing me on what was known about this ‘Snake-Eyes’ and I was content now to let the information sink in. Both of us were eccentrics in the stuffy ranks of the FBI. Mulder because he was unorthodox and myself because of what I could sense. That and the master’s degree in ritualistic crime helped keep me on the weird end of the spectrum.

 

Smirking humorlessly to myself over the irony of what I’d been drafted into, I scooped up the files and my tea before settling into the couch. Agent Scully had dragged herself in hours ago and off to bed with barely a ‘nice to meet you’. Since she’d been at the hospital the better part of twelve hours, I could hardly blame her. So all I was missing was the mysterious inspector from San Francisco.

 

Something tickled across my perceptions and I froze.

 

Like a window left open the night air, or a kitty brushing against my leg in the dark, it was a faint but distinct sensation. What the hell was that?

 

Several things happened simultaneously. The door from the hall outside opened and I had a glimpse of black leather, blonde hair and flashing blue eyes. Mulder stepped from his room to say something I didn’t catch.

 

And there was a gigantic tawny cat, teeth pulled back in a snarl, glowering at me from the main doorway.

 

Shouting in terror, I dropped everything and scrambled away, over the couch and went crashing heavily onto the floor. Okay, the fall had now rattled some sense into me. What the hell was that? Mulder was kneeling beside me, speaking. Those blue eyes were beside him, concern and wariness blazing there. Again, the snarl of that great cat and a flash of yellow-gold in the fields of blue. Frozen in animal terror, I could only whimper.

 

“Monica!” Mulder’s shout finally broke through what I was experiencing and I was left staring at the good-looking blonde woman crouched next to me with the tall agent. “Are you okay?” Was I okay? What kind of stupid question was that? Then I realized that I could never adequately explain what I had just seen. I never could. The Visions were always a curse and only sometimes a blessing. For a spilt second an enormous cougar had stood right where this strange woman had framed herself in the doorway. Even now she unnerved me. I could see the calm human exterior, but the cat paced just beneath. Staring at her, I could almost see it, morphing over her features like a computer simulation. Shuddering, I flinched away, leaning into Mulder’s comforting touch.

 

“Just… just thought I saw something,” I bull-shitted and tried to pull that icy FBI calm around me. While Mulder continued to calm me, I forced myself to take a good look at what could only be Inspector DeLorenzo. She was a physically striking woman, particularly by her dress, but it was the eyes that were irresistible. 

 

++ Dace ++

 

I just knew that she had seen the cat. This complete stranger knew something about me that I barely understood myself. Who could blame me for retreating like a scared animal? In the dimness of my hotel room, I stared out over the landscape of Chicago and watched the sky grow darker and darker. Damn, but it dark early here in January. It reminded me of trips I’d taken to Seattle years ago before shutting Sylvia out of my life.

 

The cat growled. She made a variety of noises, from bird-like chirrups, various stages of the bone-rattling purr, to a harsh, yowling snarl of pure menace. There was one more distinct song, one I’d heard in my dreams all of my life and done my damnest to ignore. A low threat that came up to that higher-pitched shrieking yowl that belonged to cougars and cougars alone. The shattering, falsetto scream that most people associated with the gold cats was a war cry between my ears when I was turned on, intrigued and perhaps a bit threatened.

 

Thankfully, she was only growling now. Sort of half-threatened, and half aroused into interest by this dark stranger who had broken her secrecy. The red-gold hide of my strange alter-ego paced in circles in my mind.

 

What was happening to me? All these strange impressions of cougars and green tinged landscapes of dim light and strong sensations. 

 

They had only been mine until now.

 

Right on cue, there was a faint knock on my door. “Come in,” I called out, never moving from my position. I knew who it was. A shaft of light from the central room cut across me.

 

“I suppose we should… talk,” said the dark woman whose name I had completely missed, if it had even been offered. After a moment, the bed sagged beside me. “Volunteering to help us was an admirable thing to do.”

 

“I had to. Something drew me here.”

 

“Drew you here?”

 

“Call it fate, karma, magic,” I grumbled tiredly.

 

*“Magic?” My unknown companion questioned in a lilting, teasing tone. “Not that I don’t believe in it. I was something of a black sheep in the field office in New Orleans... because of my beliefs.”

  
Curious, I met dark eyes, depthless and mysterious in the dimness. “Beliefs? And what are those?”

 

“I just have certain spiritual notions. I believe there are energies in the universe. It might sound kind of cosmic, but I think I’m sensitive to them. I mean, I get these feelings. Sometimes, even… Visions, I guess you’d call them.”

 

“You saw the cat,” I stated flatly and that power must have flashed in my eyes, because she shuddered in animal fear and turned away. “Do you have any feelings about that?”

 

“I don’t know you. And I don’t have any feelings about what lurks inside you. But I am feeling your fear and confusion. And fear’s not going to help you find this killer or anyone else. Maybe you can try and stay open, too.”*

 

All I could do was nod slowly, feeling very much afraid of where this power inside of me was headed.

 

And what kind of monster she might be leading me to.

 

++ Dana ++

 

I wasn’t happy to be rousted out of bed, but Agent Reyes was adamant. And thankfully, gentle as well. “C’mon, DeLorenzo needs to speak to all of us. Mulder’s already up.”

 

A perverse corner of my brain wanted to pull rank on this woman and roll over and go back to sleep. Duty won out, as usual. Grumbling, I followed the taller woman out of the bedroom, cinching my robe tight, and squinted at the bright lights in the main room. Dace was pacing agitatedly while Mulder watched in fascination. Not that I could blame him, she moved like a hundred some-odd pounds of prowling big cat. “Thanks for getting up,” she gruffed at me, her tone both unfriendly and reassuring at the same time. “I need to clear up some things with the three of you. While I realize that this is an FBI investigation, it’ll need to be played off differently than just by the book. There’s something different about this perp, something almost… otherworldly.”

 

I refrained from rolling my eyes at her phrasing, but barely. “So Mulder’s been trying to convince me,” I added dryly. That made Dace focus her attention on me, stalking in to hover just at the edge of my personal space. It was distinctly nerve-wracking.

 

“There is something strange going on, and I’m a part of it. No clue exactly what that means yet, but I’ll figure it out. You guys are going to need to give me a lot of space and discretion to flush Snake-Eyes out.”

 

“I knew that,” Mulder suddenly interjected calmly. “You were meant to be here. The reason I was put on this case, was because this guy breaks the rules. So we have to break the rules to find him. This is my case and we do it my way, the Bureau knows this. So, I’m all ears.”

 

That seemed to relax Dace, even as it stressed me out. Fox ‘Spooky’ Mulder was an enigma in the Bureau, and a serious wildcard. Luckily for him, he was also brilliant and very well-connected. Nothing was by the book with him. Hell, it was amazing that he would even wear a tie. And Reyes was another strange piece to the puzzle. There was something… well, otherworldly about her, to use Dace’s word. The blonde cop flopped down onto the couch and peered closely at each of us.

 

“I can’t take any of you under with me.”

 

There was a long pause while we digested that. “Why not?” Mulder questioned calmly, but I could sense the tension in him. “I brought you two pretty female agents.”

 

The comment earned a faint grin from Dace, and a chuckle from Reyes while I merely rolled my eyes. “Because I freak you out,” Dace explained, waving vaguely in Reyes’ direction before staring at me again. “And two of the local power hitters have already seen you, Scully. If you show up in my shadow, they’ll want more than to simply have you follow me around.”

 

Perversely, I had to pursue this line of conversation. “Meaning?”

 

“Meaning, that you’d have to play along with the Scene, and most likely in a public way. Frankly, you can’t pull it off, not in this environment.” It annoyed me that I was insulted, and not a little titillated by what she meant. Rooms full of people who needed their sex kinky and wild, no matter the audience or strangeness of desire. Dace saw my reluctant understanding and nodded decisively. “So, we may be required to pull in a handful of other people into this case.”

 

“Wait,” my lizard brain suddenly piped up even as my upper brain stammered in horror. “I can do this. Quit assuming things about us, inspector.”

 

That made Dace pause and stare at me intently. Despite the fierce coolness of her gaze, I stared back. This was a psychological battle, one I suddenly couldn’t bear to lose.

 

Her pale gaze jumped away first, flickering to Reyes, who sat silently nearby. I’d barely met the woman, only decades of training had allowed me to memorize her face and name when I’d come in half-dead from exhaustion earlier. This crime was taking a lot out of me. Poor, poor Silver, beaten so horribly by that monster. How she was still alive was a miracle to me. And finding that she had a young daughter… and no extended family… it broke my heart. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to get emotionally involved. I’d spent too many years looking at the last step of crime, the cold bodies and putrefied remains. Touching Silver’s still-warm and living skin, knowing that her life was probably over, despite her physical body’s fierce need to be alive. That had changed me.

 

DeLorenzo saw that in my eyes… and she suddenly saw me differently. No one should have that expressive of a gaze. The woman was Shakespeare in silence.

 

“Alright, Dana, what do you and Monica propose.”

 

So we were Dana and Monica now. Interesting. “Dace?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Do we keep calling you that?”

 

The white smile was magnetic, a charming display of personality and power. “If you’re seriously going to walk the dark side with me, pretty girls, call me Leonacouer.”

 

“Leonacouer it is,” I agreed, silently stunned by her wicked smile.

 

“You two will have to pose as students, for lack of a better description. The people that know me in this city, and there are lots of them, will accept you in that role.” Dace mused to herself, all business again.

 

++ Monica ++

 

The subject matter was fascinating, and Mulder was avoiding my gaze, knowing that I was glaring at him. What the hell had I gotten myself into? As humiliating as all this might prove to be, the scientist in me was thrilled at the idea of immersing myself in such an intricate subculture firsthand. I was so lost in thought that Dace stepping up to me made me recoil. With me sitting, and her towering well inside my personal space, she seemed a giantess. “Can you handle being the submissive?” A long moment passed while images of women in bondage paraded across my mind’s eye. Dace chuckled, a low, throaty, almost purring sound. “Nothing that serious, we can hope.” How had she known what I was thinking? “You’re very expressive, Monica, and that’s an asset. What you would need to do is remain quiet, obedient and reactive to only the stimuli that you receive from Dana or I.”

 

“Yes,” I agreed. “I can do that.”

 

“Good,” the tall woman smiled beatifically and I felt warm all over. “We’ll go over some details once Agent Mulder is through with us. Agent Mulder?”

 

Damn the carnal glaze in his eyes. Creepy, but harmless. Shaking it off, Mulder was back to business. “Who knows about what’s going on here so far?”

 

“My captain and one fellow inspector, Magda Ramirez, and the man that pretty much runs the local Scene in Chicago, his name is Silverback. Well, that’s his Scene name. Come to think of it, I have no idea what his legal name is. His two seconds know as well, but they’re completely trustworthy. I also gave the basics to my former Mistress in San Francisco. There are other major players from other cities that may become involved, but they may also have information that we don’t.”

 

Nodding gravely, Mulder eyed our police ally gravely. “We’ve never had a witness before. We have to be extremely careful not to send Snake-Eyes underground. Far too many people have died already.”

 

“I understand.”

 

And by her quiet tone, she really did.   


**To Be Continued…**


	6. Place Your Bets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The further education of Dana and Monica, and we see the smoky domain of the Amazons. Dace stalks an old buddy to help her with the belt problem while San Francisco and New York chip in with some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating:1 NC-17. Dace gets to flex her muscles.
> 
> Personal disclaimer: Michael is mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: “Facts of Life”, produced by Embassy Pictures Corporation and TAT Communications Company. Created by Dick Clair and Jenna McMahon.
> 
> Spoilers: A few indirect references to the start of season two, The Division, as well as the ‘Facts of Life Reunion’ movie.

++ Dana ++

 

Leaving behind Mulder’s slobbering male interest, Dace gestured Monica and I into her room. The bed had barely been slept in. “Monica, come here,” Dace spoke in a quietly authoritative voice, and the dark woman did as instructed. “Now, in many respects, you have the harder role. Dana, sit on the bed there and just listen for a few, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Whatever we were to learn from this unusual, charismatic woman, I knew it would be invaluable and I psyched myself to stay open-minded.

 

“Now, Monica, give me your best posture, eyes on the wall and don’t meet my gaze unless I give you permission.”

 

“Yes, Leonacouer,” Monica agreed quietly and the name flowed flawlessly off of her tongue. There was no doubt that Agent Reyes spoke a romance language. Dace grinned appreciatively as Monica straightened up to almost military precision.

 

“Good girl. Your job is to take your behavioral cues from Dana or I, but you need to remember that we’ll be doing the same with you. I’d like it if you get something out of this besides just work. One of the great things about playing in the subversive zone of bondage or something rough, like what you’ll probably see in the clubs, is that’s it’s very freeing.” While Dace spoke in a low, soft, hunter’s voice, I watched in enraptured silence as she ran experimental fingertips over Monica’s lanky frame, as though learning her by Braille. With a touch here, a gentle prod there, she modified Monica’s posture and body language as a sculptor would clay. While there wasn’t anything overtly sexual about the pale hands, the sensuality was unmistakable. “There won’t be a need to perform, so to speak, if we don’t stay in any one club all the time. If this case goes on longer than a week or so, though, we’ll probably need to rethink this arrangement.”

 

“Yes, Leonacouer.”

 

“Now, look at me.” A long moment passed while the two of them searched gazes. Pale hands raised to tug Monica’s yellow t-shirt from her jeans, slipping beneath the thin fabric, to smooth those teasing hands over the dusky skin beneath. Monica didn’t move, but her breathing grew short and shallow. “Good girl,” Dace purred again. “You shouldn’t get touched by too many strangers, but you are good-looking and will get some admiring pets. Dana, c’mere.” It was invitation as much as instruction, but I obeyed anyway, too caught up to do anything else. “Touch her. Be gentle, but firm. Like any animal, we are reassured by the touch of someone we trust. That’s the game, pure and simple. Trust. When you really believe in someone enough, you’ll do anything for them. Barriers fall away, taboos become meaningless noise.”

 

The warm silk of this stranger’s skin was magnetic, energy firing through my excruciatingly sensitive palms, fingers, thumbs curling into the beguiling groove of her spine. There was a babble of objection somewhere in the top of my skull, but the pleasure of touch drowned it out. I visualized wolves play-fighting, cats washing with rough tongues, primates grooming their troop-mates with dedication and love.

 

With primitive relish, I touched Monica Reyes, smoothing my hands over the planes of her back, shoving the glaring yellow material away. It slid away, drawn off by some force, leaving the expanse of flesh open to my admiring gaze. I was enraptured by the dance of flat muscle, the play of light over the lines of her body, the contrast of our skins, my paleness making her look swarthy by comparison. A sound like a moan vibrated against my skin, traveled up my muscles and tendons to lodge in my own throat.

 

“You’re starting to understand,” Dace’s voice purred oh-so-soft in the thick quiet of the room, popping the bubble of sensation. I forced myself not to jerk my hands away from where they cupped lovingly around the lower curve of Monica’s shoulder blades, dark coffee hair tickling against my fingertips. “You just broke some taboos, and liked it,” Dace chuckled and I forced my eyes to meet hers. Monica was leaning heavily against the taller woman, breathing raggedly, fingers clutched into the white shirt. Blue, blue eyes glinting knowingly and I swallowed hard.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Despite being too antsy too sleep all day, I was rarin’ to go now that the two women agents were a little more relaxed. Dana allowed me to rifle through her luggage while I passed on more of my knowledge and we all agreed on safe words. Hoover was to be the ‘red light, find a safe place and talk things out’ word. Since we wouldn’t actually be in any scenes, that would suffice for now. There were a few sexy underthings and a severe black skirt and shiny, black leather, killer pumps that would be Dana’s Top look for now. The severe, icy femme look, the one that Sylvia was a master of, would be a damn good one for Dana. I happened to have a loose mesh shirt that was a little small on me that I happily handed over to her. Then I got the pleasure of doing her makeup, accenting the startling eyes that were blue fading to green, the full mouth and the vibrant red of her hair. It was a sharp flashback to primping Sylvia for all those years. Shaking off the sense of deja-vu, I swept Dana’s gorgeous mane into a flawless French twist, added chunky gold earrings, a matching chain around her neck, and viola! The woman was a dominatrix in the making. A white dress shirt temporarily over the ensemble would save her from Mulder’s ogling. Men…

 

Monica was easier. White sports bra, faded jeans, and a fascinating pair of hand-made leather moccasins I’d found in her bag started things off. Since she was built very similarly to me, I offered a thin kidskin vest that accented her curves and added a chain dog collar from my private collection. “I’ll want this back,” I explained calmly, slipping the cool metal over her head and tugging the links to rest close to her throat. “But it’s yours for now.” The ring at the end rested right over her sternum, easily accessible for a finger to be hooked into it.

 

The leash would stay in my pocket until it might be needed to show that Monica wasn’t available.

 

We slipped from the hotel room and found a cab to head for the nightlife on the south end. I had some unfinished business with my naked beltloops and I knew just the Amazons to help me out.

 

It was late enough that a crowd had gathered at the foot of the six-story building. I climbed from the cab, tossed the annoying man a few bills and stayed in the shadows to watch the crowd while my partners stood silent sentinel behind me. Loud music pulsed inside the structure, throbbing like a heartbeat. The mixed crowd, mostly women, shifted and ebbed like the tide on the sidewalk.

 

All I needed was someone that would recognize me.

 

Some time passed, the cat pacing restlessly inside my bones. A successful hunt was in the planning, the stealth, the reward coming when we were more patient than our prey. Finally, a clean, finely muscled figure melted out of the crowd. The traditional Amazon feathers trailed from the bicep strap, and from the headband holding back dark hair. Excellent, here was my opportunity.

 

Skulking across traffic, creeping up behind her, I waited for a reaction. Pony didn’t disappoint, jumping around with a curse, fists up. The buff woman was honestly dangerous and I raised placating hands while grinning flirtatiously. “By all that’s holy,” Pony breathed and I was yanked into a crushing hug. “Dace, you wild thing! How the hell have you been? Goddess, no wonder Steph’s been on pins and needles today!”

 

We laughed together over that, ignoring the envious and curious faces of the crowd and my two shadows. “You look good, for an old nag.” The dig earned me an affectionate punch in the arm, but it would also get me into the club.

 

“They with you?” Pony questioned and I felt bad that I’d completely forgotten about my nervous students.

 

“Yeah. Figured I’d take care of as many errands as possible while I’m here, y’know?”

 

“Oh, I know! C’mon in then.”

 

I spoke as best I could in the noise while we climbed to the upper levels. “This new building is impressive!”

 

“Yep,” Pony chortled happily. “Silverback and Tarzan bought it three years ago, but we could only move in this last May. There’s a ton more space here and it’s a safer area to boot. Even better, we were finally able to modify an adjacent building as living areas, just like we’d always wanted to! Now, as much as I’m sure you’re delighted to see me,” Pony joked and I ran an appreciative glance over her scantily clad, body builder physique. “I think that’s what you were looking for.” She gestured negligently into one of the bars. “Look me up for drinks or dinner before you leave Chi-town, won’t ya?”

 

“Count on it,” I shot back, already distracted by one of my favorite old playmates. Close in age and a good match to my kinks, Steph was exactly what I needed this cold night. Planted rudely in the wide doorway to the plush bar, I focused my attention on my curly-maned quarry. This would be a good lesson to my silent shadows, and further my journey back to character in these dark, sultry places. My stare became a physical thing, power curling up like smoke to turn sharp as steel. Arms crossed, feet planted shoulder-width apart, I waited.

 

I waited and stalked with only my eyes and my implacable will.

 

++ Steph ++

 

It was true that to get something done right, you had to do it yourself. Little wonder that I’d never taken a real vacation in my life, and that I very rarely sampled the decadence around me night in and night out. It was a blur at the fringes of my existence. What Jane couldn’t manage fell to me, and it was a busy life. Wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it left me little time for anything but the Amazons and my sons.

 

Appreciative eyes passed over me, a familiar sensation. The tingle slid away, only to return, like gentle hands resting on my hips, breath across my nape.

 

The fine hairs all over my body began to stand to attention and I snorted in irritation, lost in the push and pull of my job. It didn’t go away, the touch of eyes growing heavier and heavier. I swear I could almost feel them on me, stroking and teasing, promising dark pleasures.

 

There were few Mistresses that passed through these halls that I didn’t know. There were a paltry few still that got my motor running. Only this time, my palms were starting to sweat and I was getting tingly all over. Huh?

 

Then I remembered that Dace was in town…

 

And dropped all six beers in my hands.

 

Jerking my eyes around the room like a frightened animal, I quickly froze beneath the crushing weight of that blue, blue gaze. Oh, I was in so much trouble.

 

Stammering out some lame order to the lead about the shattered beer bottles, I crept out from behind the bar and minced like a nervous cat through the heavy crowd. Whatever guilt I felt for bailing on my staff vanished as I stepped up to the woman I’d had a crush on since I’d hit puberty. Time had made her even sexier, the animal magnetism she always exuded like a musky smell deep in my lungs. Arms crossed, stance aggressive and threatening, I was ready to worship at those damnable boots right here.

 

“I have need of your services,” Dace growled and my heart rate soared into dangerous levels.

 

“Yes… yes ma’am,” I squeaked, feeling the denim of my shorts growing damp and restricting.

 

“Take me to the leather room.”

 

Disappointment washed over me. Shit, any of the Amazons could do that errand. Smirking, Dace lashed out to grab the back of my head and I gasped in surprise and perverse pleasure. “Don’t pout, sweet cheeks. Daddy will give you a nice thank you if you’re good.” The deep rumble of her voice dropped to a sultry growl while she nipped my ear and I practically hyperventilated. “Please, Cheetah,” she mocked lightly. “Be good. I have a dozen rusty spots that need oiling.” Abruptly, I was yanked around by that hard hand and nearly shoved over. “Now go!”

 

Like I was gonna say no!

 

++ Dace ++

 

Once in one of the quieter hallways, I shooed Dana and Monica into one of the bars, promising to join them soon. What I was about to get into with Steph was between her and I only. They weren’t happy about it, but I couldn’t give a damn at the moment.

 

Traditions were the things societies were built on. This was a favorite of mine, and the Amazons did it with unparalleled class and diversity. Taking a deep lungful of the pungent air, I savored the thick scent of cured leather. Was any smell sweeter? Our primitive ancestors wore the skins of the beasts they killed for sustenance. We wore them now as ornamentation, to clothe our frail human bodies in the strong, heavy armor. And then there was those of us that wore the inky skins to attract others, the way a peacock would flare his Technicolor tail.

 

Here was a great roomful of leather. Most of it darkly tanned and dyed, but some raw and some all the colors of the rainbow. There were entire hides, strips and laces and spools of the stuff, many thousands of dollars worth. Tables were strewn with signs of craftsmanship, projects in every stage of completion. Much as I might have liked to hang out and browse, I was there for something specific and pushed Steph into the room ahead of me.

 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve played the Scene,” I mused distractedly, knowing she was hanging on every word. “And I need to start again. So, I need a new belt. And I need to break it in.”

 

I heard Steph’s breath catch, could almost smell her arousal and fearful anticipation. There was a bucket of belt buckles, some of them gaudy as a cowboy’s and some subtle arches and shafts of dulled silver. The later was my style and I chose one that looked like it had seen some action in the past. I liked that I could add to the silver’s history, and rubbed callused fingers over its hard curves while I explored further.

 

“Dace, ma’am?” Steph called out breathlessly and I looked over to see her dancing anxiously from foot to foot. “There are belt lengths here with snaps, in case you would ever like to change buckles.”

 

The blackened cowhide was so thick that it hardly wanted to curl around my waist to be fitted. The third strap felt oddly right in my hand, edges sharp yet smooth, heavy and substantial in my fists. Better, it fit nicely.

 

“Coltsfoot oil,” I ordered curtly and Steph scampered. Workaholic that the woman was, I bet it had been a damn long time since she had been this worked up for anything. I found some fine sandpaper to take off the sharp edges from the neatly cut leather, and sharp knives to round off the square end to a perfect length. I deliberately ignored Steph hovering nearby until I was nearly done. “Start at that end and I’ll meet you in the middle. Don’t go to crazy with that oil, some of the work to soften this up will be done by you and I. This leather might be tanned and dyed, but I intend on tanning your pretty ass as well. Unless you’d rather go tend bar?”

 

All Steph could do was flush and grind her teeth, while I chuckled, not unkindly. The damn belt was so thick that we ended up oiling it twice, before I bent the snap end with a crackling creak around the silver buckle.

 

We both shivered at the sound.

 

++ Steph ++

 

Oh Goddess… I knew what was next. The feral gleam in her eyes was intoxicating. Standing, Dace gazed down at me, both benign and threatening. Her height was always a nice shock in a leatherwoman, and was certainly very distinctive to her. It had been a damn long time since I’d let someone dominate me, but was hardly shocked that I were drenched, swollen and horny as hell. Blue eyes flickered to the worktable and I had to follow her gaze.

 

Right here? In the leather room? Where any of the Amazons could walk in and see their second-in-command bent over and begging for it? Goddess, these were the times that tested women’s souls…

 

I think I was surprised when my shorts whispered down my legs, and my shirt over my head. Dace only smiled smugly, never once doubting that she could subdue me with will alone. Tools and a half-completed corset clattered to the floor with a sweep of her arm.

 

I made the mistake of hesitating. No matter to Dace, she grabbed me by the back of my head and shoved me over the scarred table. Even the sweltering air of the stuffy room was cool against the heat in my crotch as outer lips split and wetness trickled down my thighs. “Oh yes, Cheetah, love,” Dace mocked casually as she ran strong hands over my back and ass before dipping, teasing, into my cunt. “You obviously don’t want this. Or do you? Seems to me that bent over a table in a semi-public place waiting for my belt is right up your alley.” I couldn’t help barking in surprise and pleasure as I was abruptly impaled on her strong fingers. “Yes?”

 

“Yes! Goddess yes! Please Dace, please!”

 

That was all the incentive Dace needed, and I had just proven that I was ready for this. Damn good thing too, because only a breathless instant after she pulled out, I heard that welcome and frightening sound. The faint whistle, the creak and swish of the belt and her jacket sleeve in movement, before I cried out from the first lash striping fire across my skin. “C’mon Cheetah, we can do better than that,” Dace taunted. “I’m out of practice. You can take this.”

 

Again, the strap snapped across my asscheeks, pain flaring dull and hot beneath the skin, muscles bunching and trembling. “Yes!” Again! The pain cris-crossed the first two stripes, stoking the fire. Definitely been too damn long since I’d let someone I trusted do this to me. The pain focused my attention on my lower torso, blood rushing to erogenous zones, pleasure spiraling tighter and tighter.

 

Quickly, so quickly, I was barely aware of anything but my burn and the trust I still held for this tall woman. Her masterful talent to read what I needed and how far she could push was making me insane. The beat of the belt against my strong ass matched my heartbeat, our combined breathing was harsh in the stale quiet, my cries were uncoordinated and desperate.

 

Hell, I didn’t even know it was over, my body still in thrall of the beating, until long and hard, she slipped deep into my dripping heat. The rasp of denim over the welts made me cry, the thrust of her strap-on made me cry harder, increasing my death grip on the edges of the work table. All too soon, the pleasure ripped over me, left me blind, mute and helpless in her grip.

 

Sanity came back slowly, cracked on the edges as she remained deep inside, every move translating to my sensitive membranes clinging to her. Gently, Dace pressed a warm kiss to the back of my neck and I purred in appreciation.

 

“Thank you, Steph. I feel like I’ve almost come home.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

I was startled to see a shadowy form in the doorway, and my jerk of surprise made Steph look as well. The shadowy figure cringed a bit and I relaxed. There was no threat in the body language. Quite the opposite, in fact. Curious, I reached out with my newly enhanced senses, even as the figure inched forward. The sound of her breath and the smell of her gave her away only a moment before she crept into the edges of the light.

 

A hand on Steph’s lower back kept her prone as Monica made her appearance. “Did you require something?” My irritation and sarcasm was only partially feigned. Flinching at my tone, Monica half-turned away and I took the opportunity to finally pull out of Steph’s hot pussy before we became completely glued together. Despite the unexpected audience, the blonde groaned heavily, and I swatted her ass in appreciation. Tucking away the phallus, I happily laced my new belt through its loops. Much better.

 

“Ummm…” Monica hedged. “Miss Dana sent me to, ummm.”

 

Chuckling, I helped Steph stand in case her back was stiff from all the exercise, before going to Monica. I loved physically intimidating women, especially fairly tall ones like this pretty agent. In the boots, I was a good four or five inches taller than her five nine-ish. “To what, hmm? Is your Mistress getting anxious? I did warn you two that a club was much different than the way you’ve played until now.” The half-truth was easy.

 

“Yes ma’am,” Monica said, still staring at my boots, despite how close I was standing to her. Bet she was eyeballing that package in my pants. The thought made me snerk in humor and grab Monica’s chin to pull her dark eyes up.

 

“Well then, let’s go reassure your Mistress. C’mon Cheetah, I think I’ve distracted you long enough.” Dressed again, Steph came over with a strange expression that was flushed, embarrassed and reluctant. I tossed an arm over her shoulders and kissed her deeply. “May I come see you again?”

 

“Anytime,” Steph breathed and we grinned together before I also grabbed Monica in a hug-headlock and walked my girls out of the leather room. Near where I had dropped the FBI agents off, I sent Steph and watched her walk away wistfully.

 

“You miss her?”

 

“Yeah,” I answered Monica’s quiet question. “Known her since I was in my teens, but we’re worlds apart, y’know? I’m an obsessive cop from California and she’s so much a part of this place. So we have fun when we can.” My smile turned melancholy as I stared into the perceptive, dark eyes. “She deserves someone wonderful, but has never let herself be caught. Damn shame, too. I can tell you more about that later if you’d like to know more about all this.” My vague gesture encompassed everything around our two bodies.

 

Monica smiled beatifically. “I’d like that.”

 

++ Kait McCafferty ++

 

(01-06-02)

 

After so many years of being behind a desk, I hardly paid attention to the phone anymore. Without lifting my eyes from the report in front of me, I snatched the demanding thing up and tucked it into my shoulder. “McCafferty.”

 

“Captain?”

 

Immediately, my day brightened at little. “CD, this is a pleasant surprise. How is Chicago?”

 

“Cold. Hey, I need your help.”

 

Now she had my attention. This woman rarely asked for anything. “Of course. Name it.”

 

Clearly uncomfortable, CD’s voice carried over the many hundreds of miles between us. “I need backup. The FBI agents are good, don’t get me wrong. Actually, they’re good enough that they don’t need to be around me and I plan on sending them off to cover more ground. So I’ll be alone again and it’s actually freaking me out.”

 

Now I was truly concerned. Having DeLorenzo ask for help was like the moon really being made of cheese. Half-standing, I inched my body around my desk and waved urgently across the squadroom. Reina looked confused, and I gave her a negative signal. “What exactly do you mean?” Finally, the young woman nudged Jinny and I gestured her to me. We’d already had a rough morning when she’d unexpectedly returned from her long stint in rehab and demanded her gun and badge back. The woman had a chip on her shoulder the size of the Golden Gate Bridge and I was at a bit of a loss what exactly to do with her. Especially with Magda and Nate out on assignment.

 

“This Scene is so intricate, and the players so wary, that I have no idea how to integrate someone in, while still keeping on the clock, y’know?” CD’s continued concerns brought me back to the situation at hand.

 

Looking curious, Jinny obeyed my wave to have her sit down and I could return to my own chair. Another silent gesture had her closing the door for privacy. “CD, I’ve got Exstead here, perhaps she can help.” A strange growling noise echoed across my ear, and then the tinny speaker as I touched a button. “You’re on speaker phone now, and it’s just the two of us on this end.”

 

“Hey, CD,” Jinny said softly and smiled almost shyly.

 

“Hey!” CD enthused. “You’re back. Damn, we’ve missed you!”

 

“It’s mutual. I hear you’re wreaking havoc on the nightlife in Chicago.”

 

“Kind of,” CD chuckled weakly and I could picture her familiar face scowling sheepishly. “I was hoping you guys could help me scare up someone to watch my back.”

 

“Are you asking me?”

 

“Not unless you want to pose as a sexually submissive slave.”

 

Jinny looked uncharacteristically taken aback, and I had to snicker. Typical, blunt CD. I’d known the woman since she was a rookie and some things never changed. “Might be a bit out of my league,” Jinny said dryly and I fought another snicker. “At least sober. I’d hate to fuck up all my hard work.”

 

It was a braver statement than I would have expected from Exstead and I was proud of her.

 

“I understand,” CD sighed over the little speaker. “Oh well. Maybe the FBI can scare up some closet perv in their ranks…”

 

“Hang on,” Jinny broke in on the melancholy rant. “I think I just figured out a perfect solution. My cousin, Jo, helped this woman out years back who’s a dominatrix. They still ‘keep in touch’ if you know what I mean.” CD’s low chuckle assured that she did, indeed, know what Jinny meant. “You can’t ask for a better police dog to watch your back.”

 

“A cop?”

 

“Vice detective in the Bronx.”

 

There was respect in CD’s voice when she drawled, “that’ll do.”

 

Wanting in on the unusually easy banter, I chuckled, “hope no one is bugging my phone.”

 

We all had a good laugh over that one.

 

++ Jinny Exstead ++

 

Well, this was going to be one of the more awkward conversations of my life. Especially after my temper tantrum this morning. CD being alone reminded me of my promises to the thin blue line and it was oddly grounding to my raw-scrubbed soul. Once we were done with CD, Captain McCafferty eyed me calmly, that perpetual glint of teasing in her eyes. “So,” she asked softly. “Care to fill me in?” How to do that? Ah well, honesty is the best policy and all.

 

“About ten years ago, I had to go with an inspector to help extradite a murder suspect from New York back to here in California. No big deal, except that every damn cop in the city seemed to know me.”

 

“Know you?”

 

Both of us settled more comfortably into the office chairs while I traipsed down memory lane. “Not me, it turned out, but someone who looked like me. Only, she doesn’t just look like me, we could be identical twins. Seriously, it’s eerie.”

 

“So, this is the cousin Jo from New York?”

 

“Yeah. Our fathers were identical twins, separated when my dad was adopted. It was quite a spirited conversation when I asked about his being adopted. There are so many secrets in my family, it’s no surprise that we can’t communicate for crap.” I was scowling and I could feel McCafferty’s patient kindness at the edges of my awareness. Rehab had left me scraped raw and I was beginning to really realize that I would never be the same again. Good thing I had met Jo years ago. Her blunt practicality and off-beat humor were grounding to my wounded soul. Wish mom could have met her…

 

Shaking off my memories, I again focused on McCafferty. The combination of wise discretion and empathy in her eyes both warmed and irritated me.

 

“Anyway,” I said gruffly, swallowing the pain and threatening tears. “Jo’s been bouncing around the different detective squads for years now. There was some case that earned her gold shield years back that had something to do with these leather clubs. I’ve been teasing her for years about it. If anyone can help CD, Jo can. And, if she impersonates me, even someone investigating CD’s real background will think we’re a couple. Maybe I can go to New York while this is going on. Hang out with my niece. What do you think?”

 

“I think you should call Jo,” McCafferty said quietly and I had to grin. “Do you want me to leave?”

 

“No. You can make this call official business.”

 

++ Jo Polniaczek ++

 

Definitely one of the weirder conversations of my life. Hanging up the phone with Jinny’s captain, I quietly began to gather my things. My own captain came out to hand me a file folder, catching my eye and murmuring, “good luck.”

 

There was no question about me taking up Jinny’s request to go to Chicago, even as I burned with embarrassment at the recent conversation. There was a cop in trouble and I could help. What more reason did I need?

 

Somehow I made it home, pushing through the door and dropping my helmet in its customary spot by the door. “Jamie? Rick?”

 

“In here, mom,” my daughter called out and I locked up before moving deeper into the apartment. She was busy in the kitchen with dinner. “Dad’s off helping Uncle Gil with that garden of his. He’ll probably be late.”

 

Since I was well aware that Rick had been sleeping with Gil nearly as long as the pre-teen had been alive, I merely chuckled and moved to wash up. The only reason that Rick and I had married all those years ago, is because that’s what kids our age were supposed to do when they met someone they really liked. Very quickly, our marriage was a joke. Luckily, I really liked Rick and we came to a compromise. Since I was pregnant on our cruise-ship honeymoon, we would stay together, even as we lived half apart. For twelve years, we’d been quite content with the arrangement, and Jamie was growing into a fine young woman.

 

“You seem kinda distracted,” Jamie brought up in that blunt, Bronx tone. She was so damn much like me… “Somethin’ up?”

 

“Yeah, actually. Nothin’ bad. Get this stuff to the table and I’ll fill you in.”

 

So, here we were, quietly working our way through mashed potatoes and pot roast. “So?” Jamie finally questioned and I sighed.

 

“Your aunt Jinny called me today. That’s why I’m home a little early.”

 

“Cool. Is she finally gonna visit?”

 

“Yeah, actually.”

 

“Sweet!” The grin of delight slowly faded as she saw my expression. “But?”

 

“I’m going undercover again.”

 

++ Jamie Bonner ++

 

There were days I hated mom’s job. Every few months she’d have to disappear and I’d be left behind. Again. At least mom looked like this was really bothering her. “There’s a woman that Jinny works with who’s gotten involved in something that might get really dangerous for her. She needs someone to watch her back.” We stared at one another across the table and I could see that this was really wreckin’ her up. Mom and I had always had a different kind of relationship than a lot of kids. She treated me like an equal in most everything. Oh sure, she spared me the goriest details about life, but definitely gave me the basics and then some. We were as much pals as mother and daughter. But there was always somebody else that needed her as much as I did.

 

Maybe more.

 

“Another cop? Yeah, that’s cool. Where? I mean, aunt Jinny’s in San Francisco, so why ask for you?”

 

Mom sighed quietly in relief at my acceptance and went back to eating, giving me the story between bites. “The case is in Chicago, actually. You did a great job with the spices on this roast, honey. Jinny said she would come here while I’m gone. Things have been rough for her in California, and I think being surrounded by family will be a good thing. Promise me you’ll take care of her?”

 

“Sure thing, mom. When?”

 

“Tonight, actually. She has some info for me on this fellow inspector. So, you can come to the airport with me for the swap out.”

 

“Cool!”

 

It only took a few minutes to get mom packed. The project would have gone faster, but she was monster embarrassed about whatever was in that little leather bag she shoved into the corner of her big backpack. I was in charge of the smaller pack and the laptop that mom would keep with her on the plane. At the airport I sprawled out in the terminal chairs and dozed on mom’s shoulder, knowing how much I would miss her.

 

A voice startled me awake. “Glad to see my visit has inspired so much enthusiasm,” Jinny laughed as mom jerked to attention. “Get up, you slugs, and give me a hug.”

 

We did just that, pouncing on the long-haired woman until she laughed and begged for mercy. It was really eerie how much they looked alike. If mom didn’t keep her hair shoulder-length, and they weren’t dressed different, it would be almost impossible to tell who was who. And if anyone should be able to tell, it was me!

 

“Thanks for this,” Jinny whispered into the hug. “You’ll never know what this means to me.”

 

“You got it,” mom whispered back, leaning away a little to grin at her cousin. “Got a crush or somethin’?”

 

“Shut up, Polniaczek,” Jinny growled, cheeks flushing, and we all laughed.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	7. Wheel of Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo checks in with her Mistress, who drafts in a mutual friend, and notes are then compared at the Chimera. At the Staff and Scroll, Jo finally finds Dace and the sparks fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Strong R. The kink is building up again…
> 
> Pairings: Dace is making new friends, so look out!
> 
> Personal disclaimer: Ingle is mine. She was introduced in the Reverberations vignette: Baked Apples.
> 
> Disclaimer: “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit”, the characters, and situations depicted are respectively the property of Wolf Films, Universal Network Television, and NBC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with “Law & Order: SVU,” NBC, or any representatives of the actors.

++ the Archangel Michael ++

 

(1-7-02)

 

This was getting out of control. If there was one thing I hated…

 

It was being out of control.

 

The phone call from Tarzan had shocked me to my core. Who would have thought that Dace of all people would make the first move? It had been nearly thirty six hours since talking with my old playmate and I was no closer to finding an answer in my own heart. We’d grown to rely only on ourselves in New York…

 

But at what cost?

 

We were alone here. Hell, even the weekend pervs didn’t travel much anymore. Life used to be far more entertaining. Now my kink was more of a chore than a pleasure. Perhaps I’d take Tarzan up on that offer after all. KC would be delighted to be reunited with her old playmates, and I’d bet my best chaps that the whole kinky lot of us could use the push and pull of our old ways. Stagnation had replaced the constant flow of creativity in the New York Scene. The top players wanted someone to look up to and I was having trouble providing that leadership, needing some new energy from somewhere.

 

A slow grin spread over my face and my heart rate kicked up. Years had passed since I’d played with the Amazons. It had been even longer since I had rough-housed with the feral delight that was Dace. And where Dace was, I’d bet Bane wasn’t far behind. 

 

Decision made by my well-heeled libido growling to life, I reached for the phone. Murphy would have it that the damn thing started trilling urgently. Groaning, I pulled my persona around me and checked the caller ID on the little screen. “Nice timing,” I had to mutter with a smile before answering the call. “Junkie. This is unexpected.”

 

“Good evening, ma’am. I knew you would be required to know that I’m being sent to Chicago.”

 

This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence and a strange, eerie sense of destiny crawled up my spine. “Business?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

There was something in Jo’s voice that told me that she wasn’t telling me everything. I’d been playing with the woman for years, inked a mark of ownership under her skin to prove my adoration, and I could read her extremely well. “When you get there, I want you to hit a place called the Staff and Scroll. There’s a Mistress there, a small blonde with blue-green eyes that you will respectfully call Tarzan. Understood?”

 

“Yes ma’am. I understand. Will…”

 

“And Junkie?” I deliberately cut her off, because I was worried and didn’t want to show it. “Be careful. I’ll see you soon.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

But I couldn’t forget the needy, worried tone lurking in her tone.

 

++ Olivia Benson ++

 

“If you were protecting secrets like that, you might disappear too,” Munch was ranting. Fin shot him a dry look that spoke volumes. Things were spec at the one-six, Manhattan Special Victims Unit. 

 

“You keep tossin’ all those crazy conspiracy theories, you’re gonna find yourself in a padded cell.” Fin harassed his partner. The two men were like night and day and that gave them a real edge in our work. “The ‘evil’ government’s gonna be the least of your worries.”

 

“At least I’d get sleep.”

 

Elliot and I traded exasperated glances, but wisely remained silent. When those two got started, there was nothing to slow them down. Except maybe the captain throwing work into the bullpen like raw meat to a pack of dogs.

 

Right on cue, Cragen stuck his head out of his door. “Benson, do you have an update on the Charleston case?” That made me sit up and at least pretend that I hadn’t been mentally wandering. It wasn’t a regular occurrence, but something was bothering me and I couldn’t get a bead on the situation.

 

“No. The crime lab is on it.”

 

“Okay. Munch, how about lending Stabler a hand with that Jackson case before the media vultures descend? Fin, there’s a follow up I’d like you to take care of.”

 

We all snapped into action, the constant shrill of phones like the heartbeat of the precinct. Mine joined the racket and I snatched it up. “Benson.”

 

“Hey there, junkyard dog,” purred a familiar voice, so out of context that I found myself at a temporary loss for words. She never called me at work… there was some kind of unspoken law against it or something. After a moment, I heard Michael clear her throat uncomfortably and when she spoke again, her tone was vulnerable and tense. “Listen, Olivia, I got a call late last night from Jo. She’s on her way to Chicago for something business related. Only, I think there’s something bigger going on, and a call from some old pals in the Windy City a few days has gotten me thinking.”

 

The Archangel Michael wasn’t the exaggerating sort, and I remembered Jo telling me ages ago that the woman’s faint European accent came out when she was stressed. I could certainly hear it now! My own worry for Jo crept up my spine, and damned if it didn’t feel like that faint sense of trouble that had been bugging me.

 

“Okay, I’m listening.” 

 

“There was an attack there and two leatherdykes died. I called in a favor to some law enforcement contacts and VICAP has been active lately on the same MO. Something is going down in Chicago, and I’m worried that Jo is stepping into something ugly.”

 

“So why are you contacting me?”

 

“You and your partner were two of the detectives on a related case here. I hoped that you would feel the desire to protect your old partner and wrap up a cold case. Not to mention that this case is personal to both of us because of Jo.” There was a pause and well-honed detective instincts told me to hold my silence. “That… and one of the New York victims was an old friend of mine.” Bingo.

 

“You definitely have my attention now.” Looking around, I felt that I could sneak out and interview Michael. “Meet me somewhere.”

 

“I’ll have Ingle open the Chimera.”

 

“Done.”

 

++ Ingle ++

 

It wasn’t often that Michael asked much of me. Though opening the bar before noon was a strange one, and I was honestly too curious to refuse her. Hell, I figured that I was in for a wild show. Why else would Michael want use of the place? I did some straightening up and waited for a knock on the door.

 

Imagine my surprise when I walked up to the glass door and saw an antsy Olivia standing there. “Hey,” I greeted her with a smile. “Good to see you in daylight hours. Something to drink? Have you had lunch?”

 

“Yeah, that’d be great. Trust me, I’d love a beer, but I’m on the clock.”

 

Chuckling, I scrounged up sandwiches and sodas. Olivia let Michael in and they hugged in the doorway. “Thanks for coming.”

 

“I could hardly refuse. So tell me about this case.”

 

“It was September sixth, ninety-eight. Two vics in Manhattan, lower east side, both men, both still in their play gear. I deliberately timed it so that your partner interviewed me, because I didn’t want a conflict of interest if it ever came out that you knew me.”

 

“Thank you,” Olivia sounded relieved. I shouldn’t have been listening in, but I could hardly help it in the quiet room. “That’s appreciated. I think I remember what case you’re talking about. The officer on scene called us because of the way the vics were dressed. He assumed that they must have fallen to Special Victims Unit…”

 

“Because of the way they were dressed, exactly.” Michael grumbled bitterly. “Yeah, I guessed as much. The whip and dagger Cheyenne was wearing probably didn’t help any.”

 

I couldn’t help but look over at the pain in Michael’s tone. I had known Cheyenne as well, and he was still missed by his friends. Olivia took Michael’s hands in hers and a long moment passed between them. 

 

“Cheyenne was your friend?” Olivia asked quietly and Michael nodded tightly. I had seen Olivia the client, the flirt, the drinking buddy, but I had never met Olivia the cop. I was suitably impressed.

 

“Yeah. We went to boot camp together, kept in touch ever since. Hell, I persuaded him to come to New York, told him it’d be good for his sex life.” The bitterness in Michael’s tone hurt to listen to.

 

“Michael, there was no way you could know Cheyenne would be the target of a hate crime.”

 

“I know that, but I still hurt. Y’know?”

 

“All too well.”

 

“I want you to come with me to Chicago and help make sure that this doesn’t happen again.”

 

++ Michael ++

 

It surprised me how much it hurt to talk about Cheyenne after all this time. Olivia’s sympathy both helped and made the pain worse. The problem with living on the fringe is that you caught so much more shit. When I told Olivia as much, she only smirked humorlessly.

 

“Something about the way Cheyenne died has always bugged me,” I mused.

 

“Go on,” Olivia encouraged gently.

 

“The guy was an ex-Marine, just like me, and deadly as a viper. I managed to persuade your partner to let me see the crime scene photos. For some strange reason, I kept my opinions to myself.” I smiled sadly at Olivia. “No offence to Detective Stabler, but he wasn’t the most sympathetic person.”

 

Olivia looked pained and darkly amused, squeezing my hands convulsively. “He’s very… catholic sometimes.”

 

“Fair enough. What I noticed is that there was no evidence that Cheyenne ever fought back. This bastard beats him to hamburger and my deadly ex-Marine buddy doesn’t fight back? Something’s wrong with that picture. Especially since the tox screen came back clean. And the forensic evidence only indicated one attacker, with one blunt weapon and his fists. So, someone explain to me how one guy manages to take out two leathermen without either of them being able to get a hit in, when they were both uncompromised?” The tears irritated me, and I scrubbed at them like an annoyed little boy. “The VICAP hits indicated that this same MO hits every six months or so. He has to be stopped.”

 

“I agree. Eat your lunch and we’ll figure out a plan.”

 

While I wanted to balk at her ordering me around, Olivia was a cop and this was her territory. She would call the shots for now. Lunch was a quiet affair, the conversation determinedly light, before we bid Ingle farewell and headed back to Olivia’s precinct.

 

“This is a great car,” she complimented KC’s favorite antique and I flashed a crooked grin.

 

“One of the perks of running a modern empire. Are you sure you want in on this?”

 

“Michael, Jo is as good as family to me. I’m in if my captain lets me in. Now stop stressing. Cragen’s a good guy, just try not to embarrass me too much.” Olivia cringed and I smiled at her frankness. The precinct was typical chaos as we strode through.

 

Now all I had to do was persuade the serious-faced man to let me borrow his detective. Squaring my shoulders, I prepared for psychological battle, and strode into Captain Cragen’s territory.

 

++ Jo ++

 

Groaning, I rolled onto my stomach and felt heavy wakefulness wash over me like the tide.

 

I was still burning and aching, could almost feel Michael’s heavy hand rough against my ass, punishing my flesh, making my blood burn…

 

Well, at least I was ready for the club now.

 

I realized, back when I was packing for this trip, that Jamie was curious about the little leather bag. Thankfully, security hadn’t been as curious. Inside was a favored, whisper-thin latex t-shirt and some naughty underwear. If I was to stay in a submissive position for more than a night or two, then I would need some more elaborate props, but for now, these were enough. So I shoved my driver’s license, ATM card and some cash into the pockets of my snug jeans, along with lip balm and the lucky marble from Jamie.

 

I felt naked without a gun. Every damn time I had to go undercover without one, I fought the sensation. The fear heightened my awareness, made my blood heat. No wonder I’d grown to love what Michael did to me…

 

Shaking off the distraction, I walked out of the hotel and headed for the corner the cabbie had told me about this morning. It wasn’t the best neighborhood, but I knew how to carry myself to scare off trouble before it found me. The Bronx taught me that as soon as I could walk. While I walked, I concentrated on my Vice skills, letting the acting talent blur out my thick accent, and make my stride less distinctive. I called on the memories of a thousand junkies and scared prostitutes, letting my skull shrink down between my shoulders, my back hunch slightly into something that might just look like fear. Excellent. Like this, I should appear as a nervous sub, waiting for the right Top to rope me in. 

 

The picture Jin had shown me of the woman cop from San Francisco was burned into my mind’s eye. Tall, striking, a short fringe of pale blonde hair, defensive, sharp blue eyes. She was an accomplished officer, now Inspector, and had been brought up through the ranks by an old veteran that had since passed away. For every compliment and commendation, there was a complaint and a black mark. The woman had a temper and an attitude, though she was never quite bad enough to get her in real trouble. 

 

I liked her already.

 

In the line at the Staff and Scroll, I kept my eyes discrete in the mixed crowd. It was kind of amusing to see the diversity of people here. There was everything from hard-core leatherfolk to frilly club bunnies. Looked like there was a niche for everyone inside this building. It kinda reminded me of the House of Cards back home, a favored playground for Michael and I. I’d swear there were even flashes of the club like in a deck of cards, the mate of Michael’s spade. Hmmm, this could get interesting. 

 

Once inside, I skulked about the place like a nervous cat, figuring out where I might find DeLorenzo. As the hour grew later and the crowd thicker, I staked out a corner of my best guess, a packed club called the Jungle.

 

And waited.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Three days I’d been hangin’ out in the most happenin’ place in the Windy City.

 

I was already sick of it. When you’re a cop undercover in a strange city, working a case that pushes all your buttons, feeling the FBI breathing down your neck, nervous and just plain surly… a club is the last damn place you want to be. Though I had to admit that Dana and Mon were naturals at this. They’d gone kinky clothes shopping on their own, and the roles sat more comfortably on them now. If they weren’t fucking by the end of this assignment, then something was very wrong with the world.

 

I hated my job sometimes.

 

I had to admit that the crowd in the club felt different tonight. Like a roomful of well-trained wild animals in a zoo, they waited for some signal. It wasn’t making me nervous exactly… but that many people in the throes of breathless anticipation was a bit unnerving. Despite the pounding music, few were dancing, the mob’s attention mostly on the empty stage that had been set up at the far end of the dance floor.

 

Yeah, whatever.

 

What extraordinary titillation could this carnal house offer that clubs worldwide hadn’t offered a thousand times over?

 

I hated being alone.

 

Not that I hadn’t felt the caress of a thousand eyes over the last couple of nights here. The locals were curious about me and my familiarity with the old school Amazons, not to mention my sexy pair of students. They were at a nearby table, close enough to fall under the protection of my enigma and threat. My mouth curled sensuously as I remembered Steph, curly hair askew, screaming for it while I first beat her and then screwed her silly. Good to know I still had it in me.

 

As much as I would have liked to jump into the crowd claws first, I was here on business. Which sucked. So I waved over one of the cute waitresses, letting my eyes linger on the twin dark feathers trailing from her upper arm. The girl flushed and I grinned, asking for a Miller Genuine Draft and then sprawled back lazily in my chair. I’d staked out the best table in the house to muse at before the show started. How was I supposed to find this killer? This club seemed like the best bet, as it was a hub for the leather folk and in the same building where Snake-Eyes had already struck. Hell, Silver had been a dancer here… damn shame her dancing days were over. Shaking off the depressing thought, I reminisced about the few other places we three had gone last night. The look on the faces of the leathermen when we’d walked into a place called ‘the Glory Hole’ had been classic.

 

The memory still made me chuckle. We’d made some friends, Monica being shockingly charming in a kittenish way to the leathermen, impressing me enormously. Dana had stuck close to my right elbow and taken it all in with sharp eyes. They’d go back for a few more nights to let them get comfortable, then casually ask a few questions, etc. The ‘Snaps and Cracks’, a hole in the wall lesbian bar we’d found had been even more fun, and I’d put my sweet little FBI agents away exhausted and full of sexual tension early this morning.

 

Until we made enough friends to ask questions, we just had to hope that Snake-Eyes was still in the city, thwarted by not knowing if his quarry was dead or not. I really, really hoped that Mulder was right about this guy…

 

++ Jo ++

 

It took awhile to spot her, and when I did, there was no accounting for how I’d missed her in the first place. DeLorenzo was sprawled back comfortably in her ringside chair looking like she owned the damn place. The battered and well-loved motorcycle jacket hung low on her biceps, showing off narrow shoulders and fine girl muscles. One heavily booted and chromed foot was propped up on another chair and I’d bet her eyes were casually scanning the crowd from beneath the fringe of spiky blonde hair.

 

Cop by day, leatherdyke by night.

 

If I hadn’t known who and what she was, I would have believed the illusion, hook, line and sinker, because she looked every inch the demanding Top. There wasn’t an eye in the place that wasn’t curious as hell about her. Now I just had to get close enough to her to do introductions. The fact that I was a dead ringer for one of her co-workers should work in my favor. Still, I had to approach her in character so as not to blow her cover.

 

Sure, no problem. Except that I was a sub and not supposed to be the pushy end of the game. But even subs had to pick up their tricks somehow. Shit, I’d never had to do this before, Michael was my only playmate. C’mon Polniaczek, pull it together, you can do this.

 

Eventually, I settled on a glass of icewater that instantly turned frosty in the sweltering club. Feeling monstrously self-conscious, I crept over the table and parked myself timidly at her left shoulder and waited. It took a minute, while I sweated feverishly at my audaciousness. Then the blonde head turned halfway to scan the room, caught my body standing just at the edge of arm’s reach.

 

The ice in the glass shimmered as my hands trembled.

 

The caress of her eyes was almost a physical sensation as the woman twisted slightly to take me in. I had half-expected her gaze to be blue to match the hair, but not these crystalline circles of ice that burned with an inner fire that was intoxicating.

 

DeLorenzo’s comical double-take nearly doused the chemical fire and she mouthed Jinny’s name. Shaking my head only minutely, I knelt beside her and offered the glass. “Icewater ma’am. An inadequate gift I know, but I was fascinated by you at first sight.”

 

A long moment passed and I began to wonder if I shouldn’t have waited to approach her until I could explain…

 

A hand curled around my chin, and tilted my head back, but I couldn’t meet her blue, blue gaze. “Uncanny,” DeLorenzo mused just barely loud enough for me to hear, her face so close that I could smell her breath.

 

“I’m the cousin, ma’am.”

 

A husky chuckle escaped her, and I shivered at the sensual sound. “So you are. Park it, cousin. What do I call you?”

 

“Junkie.”

 

Again, she chuckled low in her throat, a strangely feline sound. “Junkie? Your Mistress has a twisted sense of humor.”

 

“Yes ma’am. She calls me the junkyard dog.”

 

“And Jinny?”

 

“She asked me to come. To… watch your back.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

I was shocked at how much this woman looked like Jinny Exstead. Her body language was very dissimilar though, and there were additional, subtle differences. What a silly play name for an undercover Vice cop, though I could certainly appreciate the perverse humor of it. As a Top, I was impressed by Jo’s gift of the icewater. There was no pretense in the offering, and made no assumptions to my tastes in drink. A glance over Junkie’s shoulder revealed Dana’s striking eyes asking questions. I grinned reassuringly and watched the red-head relax. Now that I had my own partner, I could send the FBI agents out on their own to cover more ground without worrying about being alone. Not quite yet though. There were more things to teach them, and I could use Junkie and the crowd to do it.

 

For some time, we sat quietly amidst the throng, this strange woman who looked so familiar perched nervously in the chair beside me. She’d been trained well, eager to please without being obtrusive. So, it was my job to reward her for good behavior.

 

Jo startled a bit when I suddenly sat up and turned to her. Our eyes were near identical in color, but with her near-black hair, the effect was far more striking. I’d long noticed the same thing in her cousin. “Come closer,” I ordered and she scooted her chair over, close enough that her striking eyes danced in the club lighting. “Drink.” When I held up the now ice-less water, she tilted her head back and placidly allowed me to feed her from the glass. I enjoyed watching the muscles in her throat flex, strong and sinuous. Latex wasn’t one of my particular kinks, but the thin rubber outlined her fine figure nicely.

 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jo murmured quietly, as I wiped a bead of water from the corner of her mouth with my thumb. I was ever so grateful that her gaze darkened with carnal interest from the caress. I know that I was curious about the curves beneath latex and denim. Not to mention the sharp mind behind those deep eyes, and the competence of her profession. At least we had plenty to talk about. The thought made me quirk a grin and Jo’s eyes lit up.

 

“Leonacouer,” I instructed and she appeared confused. “My name. It’s French for Lioness-heart.”

 

At last, Jo smiled, full and bright. “Pleased to meet you, Leonacouer.”

 

There was a lull in the conversation, such as it was. The crowd moved and pulsed around us like a living thing, but at the same time, it didn’t touch either of us. Then I noticed an intent look come over the dark-haired woman’s face and she discretely craned her neck around as though looking for someone. “Problem?”

 

“No ma’am,” Jo murmured, her attention on me again. “I was instructed by my Mistress to send her regards to someone here. May I have permission for that errand, ma’am?”

 

“Certainly. But don’t be long or I’ll find myself different company.”

 

Damned if the woman didn’t looked threatened by the idea, murmuring a ‘yes ma’am’ and scampering off. Damn shame she belonged to someone else. Didn’t mean that I couldn’t enjoy her company in the meantime. Having another cop at my back made me feel better, Jinny was right to send her to me. Maybe a bouquet of flowers to the Division… Oh wait. She was in New York with I was assuming Junkie’s kid.

 

Lots to learn about my new partner. Couldn’t hardly wait!

 

++ Jo ++

 

It was a bit of a scavenger hunt to find this Tarzan. A few inquiries had finally gotten me to the lead bartender, a pretty and serious-faced woman with magnificent curly honey-blonde hair that hung past her shoulders even pulled up sloppily. From first glance, I could tell she didn’t like me and I swallowed a New York-style reaction, forcing myself to stay in character. After a long minute, she realized I was serious and reluctantly agreed to send Tarzan my way as soon as possible.

 

So, I waited. Which was not at all what the blonde had been expecting. As much as I didn’t want to leave Leonacouer sitting alone at the table and annoy her, my instructions from Michael were clear. My feet were tired and I was getting bored, but I stuck it out as the crowd grew thicker.

 

“You needed me?” Said an unassuming female voice and I turned. The woman that Michael spoke of with something akin to awe… was this? Oh, she was a looker sure, but she was kinda small and had a sweet, round face crowned off with sunny gold hair with a hint of soft red. This was someone who babysat the neighborhood kids, not scared someone like Michael. But, when I dared glance into green-blue eyes, I flinched away and dropped to my knees to bow my head.

 

“The Archangel Michael sends her regards, ma’am.”

 

There was no response and I was beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t get back to Leonacouer. Abruptly, Tarzan’s boots stepped into my space and I could almost feel the warmth of her against my head.

 

Suddenly, I was very, very alert… and very, very wet.

 

A hard hand wove into my hair and pulled my head off to the right. Fingers brushed over skin, muscle and tendon, black hair whisked away in their path. I knew exactly what she was looking for. Just to the left of the nape of my neck, tucked right into the silky strands at my hairline, was a tiny mark. Michael had to have put it on me that first time when she and her pack had left Liv and me unconscious from sexual overdose. The big one she’d made me sit still for, fingers clenched into her leg, every muscle screaming with the effort of remaining still. My captain had been incensed that I’d gone and gotten something so distinctive drawn in my skin. Made undercover work a hell of a lot more difficult…

 

“Do you bear a more distinctive mark?” The blonde asked in a sweet voice that was all steel. This is what I got for being an idiot and judging her by her wholesome-girl-next-door looks.

 

“Yes ma’am. On my back.” She shoved me down until my forehead was just touching the concrete floor. Without being asked, I hunched up, trying not to touch her, and hiked up the slippery rubber shirt. I was drenched in sweat, some from the humidity and some from reaction to this stranger. It was extremely hard work in the sweltering club, but I managed, fighting not to squirm as a feather-light touch traced the patch of skin I was always aware of now.

 

“Did it hurt?” Shocked by a stranger asking something so personal, I hesitated. That hard hand yanked me back into a kneel, pain flashing from my scalp. She was crouching over me now, breathing hot and humid against the back of my neck, the little hairs there standing up in animal reaction. “Don’t embarrass my old friend or her mark by getting shy.”

 

Old friend? Shit…

 

“Yes ma’am,” I forced myself to say in a rough voice. I sounded as stressed as I felt, the hard lump of tears choking me. My insular dark-time life as Michael’s slave hadn’t prepared me for this kind of interaction with someone I didn’t know. “The skin is so thin there that I cried and cursed. The pain’s never gone away, like a burn that’ll never quite heal.” The experience had been excruciating, like a pool of molten metal eating its way through my spine. To this day, that narrow, four-inch-long patch of skin dead in the center of my back was constantly hyper-sensitive. There were days that Michael could just trace her fingers over that spot and I would shake with orgasm from that stimulation alone…

 

And if Tarzan kept caressing me there, I was gonna do the same thing. Panting from the shivers of pleasure and pain from the tattoo, I felt sweat pooling on my skin, trickling over my flesh under the watertight shell, soaking my jeans. “Have you found someone to keep you in hand while you are visiting?”

 

Trying to get my brain out of my aching crotch, I nodded. “Leo…Leonacouer, ma’am.”

 

“Good choice. Go get a MGD from the curly-haired barkeep, she’s my second in command, Cheetah. Tell Leonacouer that the beer is a gift from the Queen of Clubs. Now get moving.”

 

Tarzan stood after giving me a friendly swat on the ass and melted into the crowd, leaving me with burning hormones and several useful lessons. So I yanked my shirt back down over my naked chest and slunk over to the bar like a shy street dog. Cheetah smirked at me, handing over an icy Miller Genuine Draft and I crept away.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	8. Deuces Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dace lays claim to Jo, and they meet an old buddy of ours in a very unexpected way, before she takes the both home!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R. Things are heating up!1
> 
> Pairings: Dace and Jo. Sorta…
> 
> Personal disclaimer: Remember Zo? If you don’t, you’re reading this monstrous fic way out of order!

++ Jo ++

 

(1-8-02)

 

I felt invisible. But that was my role, even if I loved and hated it equally. When I had finally crept back to Leonacouer’s table with the beer in my hands, she had given me a flat stare until I squirmed. Michael had an overbearing and tightly-controlled presence like a drill sergeant. The Lioness-Heart was a caged animal and you weren’t entirely sure the bars would hold her back. Both were terrifying and sexy as hell. Blue eyes flickered to the bottle and back to my face, one brow arching in question. “A gift from the Queen of Clubs,” I supplied immediately and the woman smiled.

 

“Is that who you went to see? I suppose I’ll be grateful that she let you come back here at all. The Amazons would certainly love to show you some hospitality.” The way she drawled that last word out spiked up my already-riled erogenous zones and I fought not to squirm. “So you’re mine for now?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“Good, bend over.”

 

Dace tossed a braided cord that looked remarkably like a miniature bull whip around my neck and pulled it just tight enough to feel against my skin. I was hyper-sensitive to the small weight of the rough leather, and the tufted tip that tickled down my chest towards my cleavage. I waited at Dace’s left shoulder and she utterly ignored me. Expecting it, I stood there patiently and worked at keeping my expression neutral. We were both aware that the crowd was watching us. Possibly even the killer we were looking for.

 

Sure, I loved the way Michael made me feel, but I’d never been public like this. It offended my cop sensibilities and kept my heart racing like a hunted animal. Dunno what I was afraid of. Not like I was anywhere near home where someone might recognize me, but still! Sure, I’d volunteered to help out this woman that Jinny respected so much, but I was getting in deep, and fast. Not that I would back out, hell no! After all, you can’t send a cop into this kind of den of sin alone, right?

 

Except that I knew that little niggling voice in the back of my head was right.

 

No matter how much this situation freaked me out, I loved this. I wanted Leonacouer to reach up and grab the collar to yank me across her lap. Hold me there, spank me, fuck me, I didn’t care anymore. This need was I reason I had been crawling back to Michael for so long. This need was what had allowed the piercing burn of the tattoo. Who was I kidding? I’d craved it… But this trip to Chicago was supposed to be work, and I was getting all turned around by my own kinks and was distracted by the feeling. Yet… Tarzan knew who Leonacouer was… didn’t that mean she really played? That this was more than just the job? Could I give myself to a stranger? No matter how damn sexy she might be… I was saved the humiliation of my own need and abasement by a sudden throb of music that set the crowd to screaming. Then Leonacouer did reach up and grab the whip-collar, jerking painfully at my neck, and I tumbled into my chair, desperately trying to ignore that I was swollen and dripping.

 

A lightshow kicked into the song, but all I could make out was an electronically altered woman’s voice singing, “come inside,” like a mantra that matched my heartbeat. The crowd was chanting and it took long moments for the noise to become coherent. 

 

“Panther, panther, panther,” the crowd’s voices repeated again and again until the music swelled over them. 

 

And a svelte figure stepped from behind the curtain. Tall, willowy and with fabulous legs that went on for days, she strutted to the edge of the stage with a sensual sway that enthralled the crowd. Acres of creamy coca flesh glistened in the erratic lighting when she moved. An expansive mane of loose, inky black curls was swept into a topknot above a grin I could see clearly from my seat. Hell, I probably could have seen it from the bar. And as she began to gyrate and dance to the song, a glance at Dace revealed nothing; her eyes focused on the stage with a faint smile dancing on her lips.

 

The young woman was damn good. The crowd was eating out of her hand as she danced and twirled. While the routine was blatantly suggestive, there was a classiness to her that made her stand out from most of her ilk. Then she leapt from the stage and the audience went crazy. Guess she didn’t come out to flirt with the common folk much by the way security was scrambling in surprise. A shake here, a quick caress there, and Panther had worked her way around the people at the small tables by the stage. Then her striking aquamarine gaze settled on Dace and her grin went positively predatory. Beneath the spotlights tailing her, Panther sashayed up to my new partner and they studied one another for a long moment. 

 

The whole place was staring now. It almost looked like a standoff until Leonacouer sat up straighter in her seat and the sexy dancer straddled her thighs. Holy shit… 

 

I’d been a cop for many years and seen a whole lot of shit. But watching this sexy young thing lap dance on Leonacouer’s body made me stare like a porn addict. The heavy leather jacket rippled with Panther’s movements and she very nearly tipped the chair over in her enthusiasm. Leonacouer’s smile had deepened fractionally as she let the girl play. As the music swelled into an obvious crescendo, Panther locked her knees into the blonde woman’s ribs and arched back sensuously with nothing supporting her but those magnificent legs. Damn…

 

While the crowd howled, Leonacouer finally grinned in earnest as Panther’s fine ass ground into her crotch and both pale hands rose to hover over the stomach muscles pulled tight by Panther’s position. After a moment’s hesitation, they came to rest on the sweaty, milk chocolate skin and caress lightly. Panther grinned and hooked her arms under Leonacouer’s knees to get enough leverage to flip her body ass over teakettle and land in a crouch. It was a magnificent move that nearly took big ole’ Candace DeLorenzo right out of her chair. They smirked at one another before Panther bounced back onto the stage and finished her routine. Still leaned forward in her seat, I barely heard her sarcastic comment over the racket.

 

“Hell of a way to say hello.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

Good thing that Jo had been watching the stage, or she might have noticed my shock when I’d gotten a good look at the dancer. This was either the same girl that showed up in some of Bane’s family pictures or she had a hell of a doppelganger. Then again, look at the twin sitting next to me… A faint memory of the grinning young woman being an artist in Chicago surfaced even as she plopped her strong body boldly into my lap. I hadn’t expected the artist family friend to be an exotic dancer with a lapdance that could give a corpse a hard-on. I know I was still tingling in all the right places. I wanted to ask Jo’s opinion on our next move, but I didn’t dare. God only knows who was watching. Then her hand moving caught my eye. A quick, uncomfortable tug at the leather collar. Guess that was my cue.

 

The scrape of chair legs on concrete was lost in the noise as Panther went into her next routine. Jo nearly elbowed me in reflex when I slid my chair into hers, trapping her in the ‘v’ of my legs. Her temple smelled of shampoo and sweat when I leaned in close enough to run my tongue through the moisture. “We need to find a way to get close to Panther over there. Any ideas?”

 

A very long beat passed as Jo remained tense and still and a vague suspicion began to form in my mind. One hand snaked up to grab the dangling whip end and yank her towards me. Shock, humiliation and guilty arousal flashed in her gaze. That was a bonus I relished, flashing my teeth in a threatening grin. It was a long, pregnant moment between us, gazes only inches apart, the braided leather tight against her throat. But Jo did her job and dropped her eyes before ducking her head to lean against my chin. “Dunno,” she rasped hoarsely. “You could intimidate the bouncer at the stage door.”

 

“I’d rather not make a scene.”

 

“Maybe she’ll come to you.”

 

Maybe she would at that. So I gently massaged the back of Jo’s bowed neck and continued to watch Panther torment the crowd.

 

++ Zo ++

 

There was no way in hell that woman could be the little sister…

 

Could it?

 

I mean, shit, Karen and Darya had talked about Dace almost as enthusiastically as young Emily the last couple of times I’d called to see how the family was doing. There was one particular photo, blown up to a full eight and a half by eleven of Karen and Dace in full leathers beside two beautiful old Harley’s, arms wrapped around each other.

 

It had to be her.

 

My weird ability to coincidentally be right smack in the middle of everything had struck again. Not that I was surprised or anything. Now I just needed to figure out how to talk to her…

 

I skipped my shower and change of clothes while I pondered how to get them somewhere where we could talk. Even after being in this building for nearly five months, we still hadn’t quite gotten the pulse of the crowd. There were so many people here! That gave me an idea. Hiding in plain sight was always a good idea if you could pull it off. So, perhaps I should go proposition that scary dyke I’d already flirted with. Kerry was going to be so shocked.

 

In the main room, she was right where I’d left her, and the smaller partner was halfway leaning into her chest. Almost instantly, both pairs of crystal blue eyes caught my movement and remained on me as I approached the table. I had no idea what to say to them. Ah hell, I was damn curious about the rough fringe of the crowd and she was practically family, right?

 

“So,” the blonde woman said in a strong, upper alto voice. “Do you always entice clients like that? It’s an… interesting technique.”

 

There was no mistaking the suggestive note in her tone and I grinned shyly. She had a definite arrogant appeal that reminded me of Karen Taylor. No wonder my sister kinda had a boner for the big red-head, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Which was probably safer in the long run, anyway. In a moment, I had schooled my features into nonchalance and rested hands on hips. “Client? You can’t afford me.” Oh, that got her ire up, those sparkling eyes narrowing dangerously and I enjoyed the thrill of danger up my spine. “Unless,” I added with treacherous sweetness, “I can get a piece of your sidekick over there.”

 

A long beat passed while the big woman pondered the offer, then she smiled slowly. It was looking into the face of a hungry cougar. “Do you have it in you, little girl?”

 

“Try me.”

 

Another measured beat passed. _Theh-mou_ , she was good. And I was sweating with nerves and guilty anticipation. Suddenly a concerted rush of movement had her on her feet with her dark-haired sidekick literally in hand. “Okay Panther, you’ve got my attention. Lead the way.”

 

++ Jo ++

 

A balk against the pressure of her hand on my collar earned me a yank that nearly sent me sprawling. To rein in well-honed instincts to this kind of rough treatment, I dug both hands into Leonacouer’s sleeves and gripped as hard as I could. It kept the cop reflexes at bay, but my vision was getting red. Public exposure was making me tweaky as the Junkie that Michael called me. Panther led us into the claustrophobic back halls of this place, the bass thumping dully through the walls. A pause for her to grab a terry cloth robe and then we were taken to a tiny room under a flight of stairs.

 

“Make yourselves…”

 

Panther never finished her sentence as I punched Leonacouer in the shoulder hard enough to rock the much larger woman into the closed door. I was too riled up to noticed that she’d dropped the pressure on the collar the second we’d been sequestered. “Dammit!” I seethed. “Are you enjoying trying to take my head off?!”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Junkie,” Leonacouer bemoaned and gently tugged the collar over my head. Kind fingers caressed over the sore places, trying to soothe. It felt really good, but I shrugged the thought off. “Habit.”

 

God, what the hell was I doing? I was supposed to be her sub and here I was acting all cop-like in front of a stranger! My new Mistress was gonna take my head off for sure now…

 

Before I could wrap my brain around her enigmatic comment, and the fact that she had yet to beat me senseless, Panther was beside me, holding a plastic bottle out to Leonacouer. “Oil,” she explained shortly and looked down at me. Could I feel any damn shorter in this room? She had to be nearly DeLorenzo’s impressive height. “Five ten without the heels.” My look of shock must have spoken volumes. What the hell? Was she a mind-reader, or something? Another grin flashed as she looked to Dace. “So am I totally hallucinating, or do you look really familiar?”

 

Much to my surprise, Leonacouer chuckled throatily. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

 

“You know Karen Taylor.”

 

“I’ll be damned, you are the younger Goldston.”

 

The strange woman’s voice rippled with laughter. “Zo Goldston, to be precise. And you are obviously the famous Dace. Pleased to meet you at last.”

 

My cop instincts were curious as hell, until… Okay… who gave a damn what they were talking about… Good god almighty that felt good… strong hands massaging warm oil into my sore neck… my knees growing weak. As my eyes drifted shut, Zo tugged on my hands to get me to step forward. Somehow the two tall women got me settled onto the edge of the narrow cot between DeLorenzo’s legs where she could really give my neck and shoulders some attention. The abruptness of being drafted into this case had left me tense and skittish. The fact that my new partner was sinfully attractive and my kinks were stoked up was leaving me feeling strung out.

 

++ Dace ++

 

It had been easy to be rough with Jo. Too easy. It was going to be tough to remember that this was undercover work. The job. She wasn’t mine to dominate. That shouldn’t be too hard; I’d never had any Sub look to me and me alone. Not that I wouldn’t love the privilege. And there was something magnetic about Jo’s wary and needy eyes. This small relief was the least I could do. 

 

It took real concentration to quit thinking about the warm flesh under my hands and focus on Zo. Her aquamarine gaze was calm and vaguely amused. “So what is this hidey-hole?” I asked to help get myself back on track. Zo flashed that captivating grin and I was glad she wasn’t my type. Bet she was damn hard to say ‘no’ to.

 

“This, generally speaking, is the quickie room. Anyone that watched us come in here will think that’s what we’re doing. And the bass comes through enough to cover any conversation.”

 

“Excellent. Think maybe you can find a way for us to get back out there? Y’know, discretely? I have some partners in the audience that are gonna freak that I just up and walked off.”

 

Again, Zo chortled mischievously. “I think you two might be stuck for awhile after my very public come on, but we can figure out a way to get word to your buddies.” My expression was questioning and she explained further. “I don’t pick up from the crowd, like at all. In fact, it’s majorly frowned upon, so the staff is going to be really curious. ‘Fraid that you’re stuck with me for awhile. Though, you’ll do damn good things for my reputation.”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh along with her delight in the situation. “Okay, you’ve sold me. Need a ride home, dancer?”

 

“Yeah, that’d be great. But we should hang out here for at least a few minutes so that people think we were fooling around. What do I call the two of you?” Zo waved at the leather and chrome. 

 

“Leonacouer and Junkie.”

 

“You got it.” There was a long pause as Jo grew ever more boneless under my hands. I’d bet she hadn’t slept well, hotel rooms will do that, and right now she was nearly unconscious. Zo suddenly smiled wickedly and dropped to her knees in front of us in the tiny room. “We’ll have to make it look like we were actually doing something in here. Trust me?”

 

A glassy-eyed Jo made some neutral noise that Zo took as ‘yes’ and swooped in. Whoo boy… there was an image that wasn’t going to leave me anytime soon. Zo’s caramel and cherry mouth snuggled up so intimate with Jo’s pale lips in a get-to-know-you kiss. Hot damn! Especially when Jo let loose a vibrating moan under my hands. Between the shoulder rub and the kiss, she was looking quite flushed. Zo grabbed her wrist when she reached up. 

 

“No, the lipstick marks are your cover. So, how about that ride home?”

 

And damned if Jo didn’t look disappointed that the kiss had been all business.

 

++ Jo ++

 

Humiliation and arousal flushed me hotly and made my attention scattered. I knew our perp could walk up to me right now with gun in hand and I’d be incapable of more than staring blankly. I was gently tugged to my feet and the collar carefully replaced. When we paused for a long moment in the dim hall, I leaned gratefully into Dace’s back. “You okay?” She asked softly, squeezing my fingers. What the hell was I supposed to say? I had been unexpectedly drafted into a dangerous undercover operation a thousand miles from home, torn away from my daughter, thrust into an extremely uncomfortable role, the kinks that Michael had been honing for years were turning on me, my companion was starting to become a serious lust object … and I wasn’t sleeping for shit. Sure, I was just peachy. But Dace deserved better than my sarcasm, and I had to stay in character. So I settled for a corner of the truth.

 

“Sleepy,” I murmured and rubbed my face hard against her shoulder blades and jacket collar. I could still taste Zo behind my teeth, sweet and strong. Once more, Dace gripped my fingers a little tighter in understanding. A door clicked open and I heard Zo’s voice.

 

“’Kay, I’m good to go. Are you driving something big enough to carry a bicycle?”

 

“Sure,” Dace rumbled back. “I rented a truck, like a proper butch.”

 

“Of course. Lead the way.”

 

There was a back way out, thank God, and I breathed in the familiar smell of night-darkened city. Lake Michigan didn’t smell like the familiar and filthy Hudson, but it was close enough for the city girl in me. Now in casual jeans and a red shirt, Zo collected a very expensive-looking bicycle from a shed and rolled it over. “Nice toy,” Dace commented, sarcasm and admiration mingling in her tone. Zo just grinned.

 

“My pride and joy.” With an effortless heave, the bike was settled carefully in the back of the blue Dodge pickup. “Shall we?”

 

On the ride, I huddled between my towering companions and zoned. I really was exhausted… and Dace really did have a comfy shoulder…

 

++ Zo ++

 

It took less than two city blocks to knock Junkie unconscious. Even Dace’s arm moving to shift gears didn’t disturb her doze. Dace looked wiped out too, and I hoped I could offer them a safe place to sleep. “You don’t really look like you’re up to playing,” I ventured quietly and Dace flashed a wan smile.

 

“No, I guess I don’t. Raincheck?”

 

“Actually, I was going to offer the spare room. My girlfriend has been off at a convention all week. It’s kinda lonely.”

 

“Girlfriend?”

 

“Yeah, she’s the Chief of the ER over at Cook County General.”

 

“A doctor? Nice catch.”

 

“I adore her.”

 

“Sounds like it.”

 

“It’s a right here.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Just talking about Kerry made me realize how desperately I missed her. She wasn’t due in until tomorrow night and the huge-ass apartment was echoingly empty without her presence. “Are you two partners?” I finally asked to distract myself, forgetting that I should probably keep conversation in character.

 

“Actually, no. A buddy sent her to me while I’m here.”

 

“So you’re not here on business?”

 

That earned me a sharp look, threat implicit in the blue eyes. Dunno what made me ask it, but I suspected that there was more to Dace’s vacation to Chicago. There was something focused and predatory about her that had nothing to do with her sexual proclivities.

 

“Even if I were, I can’t talk about it.”

 

“Okay, that’s fair,” I dropped it, but not before my big mouth tacked on one last comment. “I was betting you two weren’t partners anyway.”

 

“No. Not partners.”

 

There was something in her tone, an old, sharp loss. I could feel it quite clear, a jagged break in that professional bond. I’d lay odds that Dace had lost a partner before and brutally if I sensed correctly. We arrived at my funky old building and Jo woke with a rough start when the engine died. “Wha…”

 

“Relax,” Dace soothed. “We’re here. C’mon. Let’s walk Zo up.”

 

“I dunno if I feel better or worse now,” Jo grumbled as she climbed out behind me and stretched. The parking garage was deserted this time of morning and we headed upstairs. They were silently appreciative of the place and stared at the luxurious bedroom that Elizabeth once inhabited.

 

“Better than a hotel, eh?” I smirked. “You guys can stay here as long as you like, I mean it. I hate not having company. Oh, and I have a ferret and a macaw, so ignore any weird noises. I’ll see you whenever we’re all awake.”

 

With that, I walked out, not giving them a chance to refuse my hospitality. Before I could sleep, I knew I was going to have to get my first impressions of them down on paper. And soon there would be paint.

 

++ Jo ++

 

“Aw, what the hell,” I heard Dace give into the temptation of the magnificent accommodations that Zo had shown us to. I didn’t understand the connection between the two, but there was no threat from Zo, that much I did know. So I gave into curiosity and went exploring. There was a bed like something out of a movie, a big, poofy acre of luxury. A library nook was classy, the closet was bigger than my bedroom back home. I spotted the half-open door that had to lead the bathroom as I heard Dace’s voice speak quietly into the phone.

 

“Sorry to bail on you, but I’ll be staying with the dancer I left with.”

 

I couldn’t hear the reaction on the other end, but I knew it had to be the FBI agents and they were probably unhappy about this turn of events.

 

“Our sisters know each other. We’re practically family. I’ll get you the address tomorrow.”

 

Sisters, huh? That would explain what they had been talking about earlier. Not that I’d been paying much attention with those wicked hands massaging me…

 

“Everything will be fine. I’ll talk with you later. G’nite.”

 

“Whoa,” I breathed in awe. The bathroom was a palatial affair of gleaming marble and chrome. “Hey, can we stay here? This place is like a palace.”

 

Her presence tingled close to my back. “Hell yes. Wow, you weren’t kidding. We can get our stuff tomorrow if Zo’s serious about us staying.”

 

“Sweet,” was all I could manage to whisper around the lump in my throat, stepping away from her intoxicating heat to use the toilet. From the moment I’d met Dace, I’d suspected that I was in trouble.

 

Only now was I beginning to realize just how much…

 

**To Be Continued…**


	9. Wild Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hormones get the best of Dace and Jo, but food interrupts and they startle the hell out of Kerry, who helps unravel the first of the case’s clues. Later, Dace and Jo discuss kinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, for kinky conversation.
> 
> Pairings: Dace and Jo. Kerry and Zo.

Book 4: Rapids.

 

Series: Light, Water, Muses. An alternate universe for a variety of television series. See disclaimers below.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Sleep was good. Pure, uninterrupted, relaxed sleep. The longer I was a cop, the more poorly I slept. But even I couldn’t be so paranoid as imagining our perp possibly misunderstanding the exchange that had led to us being here at Zo’s place. Even if he had been in the club in the first place. The farther-flung heavy clubs were on the menu for tonight and I hoped my team was up to it. As if responding to the thought, the warm body half tucked beneath me stirred and I lazily cuddled in closer. Half asleep, I buried my nose further into the dark hair and breathed in Jo’s warm scent. Had we fallen into bed together? Then again, there was only one bed…

 

Jo moaned… and I froze.

 

It was a soft, welcoming moan that set my hormones on fire. She stirred against me, pressed into me at hip, knee, chest and shoulder… A sinuous twist left her neck exposed against my lips and I fought the temptation of her skin. As I breathed heavily, in and out, those tiny hairs at the back of her neck brushed my sensitive lips. Maddening. Utterly maddening. An eternity passed while my lizard brain argued with my upper brain over rules and wants. And slowly, utterly slowly, my head lowered to press mouth and nose to her skin in fractional measurements. Lips parted to breathe across her, to take in her scent… and taste. I honestly hadn’t expected to let my tongue flick out to savor her. This had to stop.

 

Another moan, this one with a distinctively sexual note to it. Slender hips arched back into me, the fingers curled around my knee tightening. Woo boy…

 

When I froze self-consciously, Jo settled, her breathing smoothing out. And for a long minute, I almost believed that she had fallen back to sleep.

 

Tease.

 

So I leaned away from her enticing warmth and swatted her across the ass. Hard. It earned the squeal I was hoping for and I rolled away from flailing fists and elbows, laughing at her red-faced glare.

 

“You,” she growled, and if I she hadn’t been trying so hard not to grin, she probably would have been menacing. Instead, I laughed harder, enjoying the humor clearing out my system. I was a little surprised to feel her jump on me, grabbing my wrists and straddling me with her weight. “Are a pain in my ass.”

 

“Oh?” I taunted back, wondering how strong she was. “And what are you going to do about it?”

 

Jo leaned into my wrists, and I abruptly noticed the position we were in. My hormones spiked painfully again. The same awareness flared in her gaze and I used her distraction against her. Not that is was easy to try and wrestle her into submission, giggling and growling. The woman fought like the junkyard dog she was nicknamed after. But subduing her was half the fun… and I wasn’t gonna take the chance that I was allowed to get the other half of the fun. I could only pretend she was mine for the taking.

 

We ended up face-to-face, Jo’s body pinned beneath mine, her chest heaving with exertion. And suddenly, it wasn’t a game any longer. I knew I wanted her, and I swear I saw the same damn thing in her pale eyes. “We… we should get up,” I breathed lamely, desperate for a distraction from the heat between us.

 

“Yeah,” Jo whispered back, but remained unmoving underneath me. “Or…”

 

“Or?”

 

There was too much fear in her gaze, too much… too much, what? How badly did I want to know? Smell, taste, touch… this game we been forced to play to guard other’s lives. I wanted her… wanted her to be mine at least for now. “Please… I want you so bad…” Jo whimpered and I gave in with a growl. Our mouths crashed together, her taste hot and musky behind her teeth. Jo’s lips and tongue were wild and needy, her moans sounding deep in her chest. Strong tendons flexed in her wrists where I pinned them so tight. I let her go, because I wanted to get to know all of her, not only these rough, extreme roles. So I gentled, concentrating on her responses.

 

The minute her hands were free, I felt them twine into my short hair to keep me close. Her body arched against me, her groans becoming low and wanton. Lost in her, I was barely aware of where I stopped and she began. She felt so damn good…

 

++ Jo ++

 

I had been a wild child for a long time. Eastland School for Girls might have knocked off the roughest edges, but I had rebelled over being controlled since I was a small kid. Even if I did have a thing for authority figures… Troublemaker on the mean streets of the Bronx, troublemaker in the stuffy upstate school I’d won admittance to with brains and hard work alone, troublemaker on the thin blue line. That was always my problem, I was too smart for my own good, too wily, too aggressive, too… I was too much of a lot of things. I rebelled against authority because it drove me nuts, the dichotomy of how it made me feel. Part of me wanted to rebel ferociously and part of me wanted to get on my knees and beg for the domination. That was why meeting Michael that had made such a difference to me. Oh, I knew Liv didn’t really get it, bless her heart, but handing control over to someone I trusted kept that needy part of me sane. There was no way in hell I could do it all the time, but it was a great way to recharge and regroup from my stressful life and taboo desires. 

 

But this was one of the things that I had always been bad at. Pinned beneath another, bodies intertwined, someone else’s taste in my mouth. But this time… this time something felt different. There was something ferociously compelling about Dace, and I was far from the only one that noticed. And, lucky me, I was in a position to be all hers.

 

If only she’d take me.

 

I think she liked me. I was pretty sure she liked me… And now, she was attracted to me, too. That heady combination had me willing and pliable in her hands. There would be no taking advantage of this woman, no manipulation or deviousness. She wouldn’t tolerate it. And, as our desperation shifted into a more relaxed, exploratory embrace, I realized that I really did want this. 

 

I wanted it too much. And at some point I would have to return to Michael and explain that I had given my body and heart to another.

 

“Dace,” I gasped hoarsely and she came up for air. She continued to nuzzle me and I desperately tried to hang on to my sanity. “Dace,” I tried again and felt her smile, the blue eyes dancing oh-so-close to mine.

 

“I take it by this that you’re interested in more than just work?” She chuckled and I had to laugh shyly.

 

“Yes ma’am,” I whispered back and used my hands on her head to pull her into a hug. Dace sighed heavily, resting all of her weight on me. She had a much smaller build under the bulky butch clothes than I would have guessed. She was so tall, and her personality so big, that I would have expected a body like a wrestler or body builder. I opened my mouth to say more but was abruptly interrupted by something landing heavily on the skylight and we damn near jumped clean out of our skins. Cursing, Dace rolled away and we both stared up at the ceiling. Something winged was flapping against the opaque plexiglass, squawking loudly. A voice shouted outside and the creature screeched back. There were six little toes silhouetted on the material as the bird moved about.

 

“Good morning,” Dace murmured irritably as we watched the antics above. “That thing is lucky I don’t have my gun.” I couldn’t help but laugh at her grumbling. When she rolled her head to the side and smiled, I was captivated by the warm expression. “We have to talk about boundaries before tonight. I want to have you more than just the one watching my back, but I need to know what you need. And I need to be able to send you home to your Mistress intact, and still well-trained. Preferably, even better trained than before. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again. Call it professional courtesy. Deal?”

 

“Deal.”

 

Right on cue, there was a knock. “Sorry about Behbis,” Zo called through the door, sounding amused and guilty at the same time. The bird shrieked again in response to its name. Dace propped herself on her elbows, still holding my gaze captive.

 

“That’s okay,” she called out. “We’re up. Be out in a minute.”

 

“Cool. French toast okay?”

 

My stomach growled loudly. Seems there was something I needed more than this woman’s attentions. She smiled softly and kissed my nose. “Yeah, sounds good.”

 

“’Kay.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

Now I was getting excited by this new partnership. I was gratified by Jo’s loyalty to her Mistress, even as I was secretly jealous. True loyalty couldn’t be bought. Still, the idea of combining work and pleasure had me wet and eager. This was going to be a shit-load of fun.

 

“Food?” Jo ventured in a timid tone and I chuckled. Abruptly pulling away from her seductive warmth, I bounced to my feet and stretched before offering her a helping hand.

 

“Food. C’mon.”

 

And we walked out together.

 

In the darkness the night before, I hadn’t gotten a good look at the place. The hallway dumped into a huge room with a wall of windows bigger than some buildings. “Wow,” I couldn’t help but breathe in awe. Hardwood floors, plants, and a fountain the size of a car made the place amazing. “So if Zo will let us stay, I’m definitely all over that.”

 

“Definitely,” Jo laughed.

 

There was semi-loud dance music wafting out of an oversized doorway nearby that caught our attention. So, we followed the notes and found ourselves in the kitchen, where we were greeted by quite a surprise. There was a strange woman wrapped intimately around Zo, obviously quite familiar with our hostess. Their moans had been lost to the music, but we could hear them now! And the French toast smelled like it was burning…

 

With some incoherent curse, Zo wrenched herself away from the very involved kiss to cast her eyes to the smoking pan. “Ker, hang on.”

 

Before the red-head could reply, she noticed us hovering and actually yelped in surprise. Immediately, I raised placating hands and Jo shrank back behind me. Unnecessarily scaring civilians was frowned upon. And damned if I didn’t recognize her from more of the pictures that Karen had emailed me over time. Jeez, what was this, reunion week?

 

“It’s okay, we’re harmless,” I soothed and Zo finally took notice of what was happening. Though I could sure as hell sympathize with the carnal glaze in her eyes. 

 

“Aw shit, Kerry, hon, I’m sorry, we’ve got guests.”

 

“I see that,” she growled archly and I couldn’t help but smile. This was obviously the doctor girlfriend. “I leave on business and you suddenly have strange women over?” There was something dangerous and perversely amused in the woman’s voice. I decided right then and there that I liked her already. Even if the cat seemed to be agitated over her. Weird.

 

“No!” Zo objected vehemently and, scowling briefly at the ruined food, grabbed Kerry’s hand and dragged her over to us. The small woman moved slightly awkwardly on a single crutch, but I had a feeling that it would be supremely stupid to underestimate her. “You two sleep okay? Except for the bird, of course, sorry ‘bout that. This is Kerry Weaver, I know I mentioned her last night, Ker, these two are…” Zo’s voice trailed off with a confused expression before bursting out into laughter. “What the hell are your real names?”

 

Jo and I chuckled along. I already knew that this was someone who we could trust, so I offered up the truth. “Dace DeLorenzo and this is my partner, Jo… how the hell do you say your last name again?”

 

“Polniaczek,” she sighed melodramatically, obviously used to the question. I gave her a quick swat into the kitchen and stepped in behind her, offering a friendly hand to the fierce little red-head.

 

“Sorry to startle you, but we ran into Zo last night. Our sisters are close friends.”

 

Kerry Weaver kept that skeptical gaze on me for a long moment before comprehension dawned. “You’re in pictures with Karen.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” I confirmed happily. Having family around me would ease the stress of what was going on. I decided I liked the perverse humor I saw dancing in Kerry’s sandy-green gaze. Then she glowered at Zo, who wisely flinched. 

 

“We need to work on this whole communication issue.”

 

“But,” Zo spluttered and I grinned earnestly. Thank God they seemed like a nice, normal couple. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

 

Then Kerry finally smiled and gave Zo a quick kiss, “I know, Sweetie, I’m just teasing you.” The sharp gaze swung back to us, but the warm smile never faded. “I can never get over how this one attracts coincidence.”

 

Zo shrugged sheepishly. “It’s a gift.”

 

++ Jo ++

 

By the time breakfast was over, I felt like I’d known these women all my life. Gregarious, sarcastic and smart, Kerry was in charge of the local emergency room. Zo was a painter by trade and the dancing was merely recreation and play money. While the conversation flowed around us, Zo watched Dace closely. Not so much looking at her, but through her, as though she could see things the rest of us couldn’t. It freaked out my inner cop, yet I sensed no threat from the energetic young woman. 

 

Finally, Zo couldn’t tolerate sitting still and burst into a flurry of activity to clean up the debris from breakfast.

 

“Oh, Zo honey, Sandy said to say hi, and she’s gonna kill you next poker game.”

 

Something changed in Dace’s body language, wariness mixing with incredulity. Zo sighed, “I hope she gets better soon.”

 

“Waitaminute,” Dace spluttered, completely without dignity. “You’re Chief of the ER in the hospital that Sandy’s in?”

 

In a heartbeat, the atmosphere turned icy with tension and I floundered. What the hell was going on?

 

“You know Sandy?” Kerry queried crisply.

 

“Yeah,” Dace said mournfully. “She’s why I’m here.”

 

Then it clicked. They were talking about Jinny’s partner’s sister, the one that had been attacked while trying to save her buddy from a serial killer. “What are the odds?” I muttered in disbelief.

 

“Sorry,” Zo interjected, sounding anything but sorry. “That’s my fault. Seriously, this kind of weird shit happens constantly around me. Let me make a wild guess here. You’re both cops, looking for the guy that attacked her and Silver.” I was a bit taken aback that Dace nodded mutely, not even trying to disguise the truth. Zo’s gaze focused inward for a moment as she contemplated the enigma of the two us in her kitchen. “Sandy has a sister in San Francisco…” her striking aquamarine eyes snapped up in surprise. “A cop sister.”

 

“I work with her. Magda Ramirez. She couldn’t come herself, since family is involved, so I volunteered.”

 

Poor Dace sounded bewildered. Zo focused on me as she came back to the table, resting a hand on Kerry’s shoulder. “And you, Jo?”

 

Ah well, everyone else was being honest… “Magda’s partner in San Francisco is my cousin Jinny Exstead. We’re dead ringers for each other. She asked me to back Dace here up.”

 

“Wow,” Kerry marveled with a shake of her head. “This is almost as good as me and Janet.” I didn’t get it, but Zo laughed. Kerry looked at the two of us, melancholy humor in her expression. “Long story. I was adopted by missionaries in Africa as a baby, and met this bundle of energy purely by accident about a year and half ago delivering a package of all things. So she convinces me over time that I can’t live without her.” They shared a soft smile and my heart smiled along. “Only to find out earlier this year that her older sister is married to my biological cousin that I’ve, of course, never met.”

 

“Wild,” Dace murmured. “And that same sister works with my best friend, who’s like a sister to me.”

 

“Yep,” Zo chuckled and we all laughed.

 

There was a lull in the startling conversation as Zo shooed us off to relax in the main room while she brought out coffee. Kerry led the way to a group of overstuffed furniture and a mountain of pillows near the enormous fountain. I was taken aback by the crutch she limped on and reminded myself to never assume anything.

 

“Have you heard anything that might be useful to us at your hospital?” Dace asked quietly once we had settled in. “I’d appreciate all the help I can get.”

 

“Not outside of what Sandy’s talked about. Zo knows more about that than I would, she understands it better than I do. Though Mount Sinai is north of us,” Kerry mused thoughtfully. “I can check in with them. There’s always personnel shifting going on between the hospitals around here. Let me check on something real quick.” Raising her voice, she called out, “Zo, can you bring me the phone please?”

 

“Sure,” the younger woman called back, coming out of the kitchen with a tray. We were treated with really good, dark coffee while Kerry made a call.

 

“Marty? Is that you? How have you been? Yeah, life’s been good; I finally have assistance at County. Actually, three of my Attendings split it up. Very. Yes, dammit, the rumors are true; why does everyone in Chicago care about my love life? Marty, you’re sick. Ha-ha, very funny. Is Wells around? Damn. Ah well, can you give him a message to call me?” After rattling off a phone number, Kerry bantered for another minute and hung up. “If any victims were taken in for medical attention at Sinai, Wells will probably know about it. This should be memorable enough to rattle a memory loose if it’s there.”

 

We chuckled in sympathetic morbid humor while Zo just shook her head.

 

Then something wrapped itself around my leg with sharp claws and needle-sharp teeth and I nearly upset the coffee table trying to leap clean out of my skin.

 

++ Kerry ++

 

“ _Mangas! Stamata toh!_ ” (Mangas! Stop it!) Zo shouted and there was that familiar, strange, wheezing cry as Jo nearly upset the table trying to climb over both Dace and the couch. Scrambling with admirable reflexes, Zo dove for the floor to come up with Mangas. Poor Dace was torn between alarm and confusion; hands still half defensive and half helping Jo.

 

I couldn’t help it, and laughed and laughed.

 

Something dark and vaguely threatening muttered up from Jo, and I only laughed harder. It was probably mean, but the looks on their faces…

 

“That damn thing scared me,” the dark cop whined in a peevish tone as she gingerly settled to the couch again, rubbing her ankle. I took note of the sudden Bronx accent coloring her speech. Interesting. She hid it damn well.

 

“Sorry Jo,” Zo soothed and fired me an exasperated glance I merely chortled at. Fierce little Mangas glowered balefully at the strangers in her domain, which was unaccountably hilarious to me. “This is Mangas. She gets a little enthusiastic sometimes. The bird is Behbis.” From somewhere in the cavernous apartment, the big baby set up his customary racket. It had taken months to get used to the noise, but I hardly noticed him anymore. “You get used to them.”

 

The sheepish tone mollified Jo somewhat, but she looked annoyed at Dace’s growing amusement. “Scared of a little rodent?” The tall woman teased lightly and Jo scowled half-heartedly. “And here I thought you were a tough New York cop.”

 

“It just startled me, that’s all.”

 

We chuckled together, trying not to do it too much at Jo’s expense. Zo murmured more apologies and went to return the ferret to her sprawling cage by the fountain. My humor spent, I studied our guests while they interacted and ignored me for the moment. They were a damn intriguing pair, with both familiarity and cluelessness between them. “You two aren’t regular partners,” I commented calmly and both pairs of blue eyes settled on me.

 

“Hardly,” Dace finally ventured. “Just for this assignment, why?”

 

“Chemistry,” I replied enigmatically and went to clean up. Oh, one or both of them were probably scowling at me, but they’d get over it. Their sexual energy was probably a good thing on this case; it would give them a believability that was impossible to fake. I just hoped, for their sake, they it wouldn’t get them in trouble with the other cops. “If you need anything, go to my hospital and tell them you know me and Zo. Stay here for more than a few days and you’ll know half the staff anyway. They hang out here enough.”

 

Zo chuckled from where she was feeding apple chucks to Behbis around the corner that was the big bedroom. “A bunch of the city’s finest doctors, nurses, firefighters, random civil servants and family, come here to play poker on Thursdays. Stay out late if you don’t want to meet any of them and have to field questions. We’re usually done by around three or so.”

 

“In the morning?” Dace asked, surprised.

 

“Oh yeah,” Zo answered as she stepped out with the big blue and red macaw on her arm. “Three is the usually the earliest we break up.”

 

“C’mon,” I teased. “You two should understand oddball hours as well as we do.” 

 

We all laughed together like old friends.

 

++ Darya Farazell ++

 

It was hard to say what made me pick up the phone, but it barely had a chance to make a stifled squawk. “Hello?”

 

“Jeez, Dare, did the thing even ring?”

 

“Dace,” I grinned with pleasure. It was odd what an impact the woman had on our lives, as just a voice and pictures. “I just had a feeling.”

 

She chuckled warmly, but I sensed tension in her tone. “A feeling, huh? Reminds me of my new buddy here. Is Karen around? I’d actually like to talk to you both.”

 

“I swear,” came Karen’s voice, grumbling from the hallway. “I’m gonna adopt that damn Goldston girl, if it would actually get Emily to sleep.”

 

Torn between amusement at the grousing and half-guilty sympathy at Emily’s unrelenting dislike of naps, I chuckled. “Karen, honey, it’s Dace on the phone.” Disheveled and half-asleep from an extended bout of putting Emily down, Karen stepped into the sprawling living room. “Dace? Let me put you on the speaker phone so that we can both talk to you.”

 

“’Kay.”

 

“Hey punk,” Karen sassed as she grabbed the apple juice and a cup from the adjoining kitchen. “What’s up?”

 

There was an uncomfortable pause and my feeling that something was wrong peaked. “I’m kinda caught up in something and I think I might need your help,” was all the warning Dace gave us and unloaded like a dump truck. For the most part, we listened quietly, trading meaningful glances as the tale unfolded from the speaker. From Sandy’s attack, to Sylvia, to coming to Chicago, to her new partner, to unexpectedly meeting Zo. It was hard to believe what was going on, but Dace was not the kind of person to be prone to exaggeration.

 

“Jeez, Dace,” Karen rumbled in her most tender tone, usually reserved for myself and the children. “How are you holding up?”

 

“Okay, I guess. I hate being alone though. Gramps should have contacted the Lady by now, but I don’t know if she’ll contact you.” Karen’s worried gaze fell to my swelling belly as Dace added, “with the baby coming and all.”

 

I saw there, plain as the bright green of my dearest love’s spectacular eyes. Dace needed her. There was a long moment of debate, for I hated to give Karen up, but this woman was her family just as much as I or Emily or Anastasia. I nodded, soundlessly agreeing with the plea in Karen’s gaze. “I can be there by sometime late tomorrow or Thursday, but not tonight. Me and Emily have plans tomorrow and I can’t bail on her.”

 

“Oh shit, I didn’t even realize…”

 

“It’s okay. I’ll contact Anastasia, and then get packed. Me and the Monkey can do our thing and I can head for Vegas. You just keep yourself calm and safe, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Dace said quietly, sounding for all the world like a scared kid. My heart went out to her.

 

“Unca Dace?” Came an unexpected voice and we both looked over to see Emily rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Unca Dace?”

 

“Hey Monkey,” Dace’s voice purred through the phone like a big, verbal hug and Emily plodded over, yawning.

 

“You need Kryn?”

 

“Umm… yeah… but you have plans…”

 

“No. You and Gramma ‘Stasia need her. Unca Art will take me to the dragon party,” Emily said soberly, sounding centuries older than her four years. Something shadowy lurked in her bright blue eyes as she glanced at me and then up to a baffled Karen. “She needs you, you’ll see.”

 

“Hey Emily?”

 

“Yes, Unca Dace?”

 

“I’ve been making an awful lot of excuses to not visit all of you in Colorado, and I’m really sorry. When all of this is over, how about I come by and spend some time with you?”

 

And, in an instant, Emily was once again a happily squealing little girl, picking up the phone so that the speaker was cut off. She babbled about zoos and ponies and the twins and ‘her’ babies growing, while I could almost hear Dace’s kind interest. Karen came over to sit beside me, one hand rubbing my belly, the other the nape of my neck. “I don’t get it. She’s been obsessed with me staying close after I was gone for so long, and now she’s practically throwing me out?”

 

“Karen, love,” I soothed wounded feelings. “There’s some bond between Emily and your sister that I don’t understand, but is there nonetheless. Go help her; we’ll keep the home fires burning.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

After happily listening to Emily ramble on and on about her life, Karen took the phone over and confirmed things with me. Guilt wracked me for dragging Karen into this and away from her family, but I knew that she needed to know what was going on, because it involved the Lady. I hung up the phone and threw an arm over my eyes. I’d been sprawled out in the big bed for the whole conversation.

 

How had little Emily seemed to understand my urgency? How did she know that I needed Karen’s strong, predatory presence at my back? That Lady Heartsblood would need her as well? I didn’t have the answers, but the cat grumbled some placid, protective emotion at me. She understood the cub just fine, and that was one of the things that puzzled the hell out of me.

 

The door clicked open and I peeked out from beneath my arm. Damned if Jo didn’t look edible standing there all warm and damp in nothing but a towel. “Dace, ma’am? There’s still hot water if you’d like to shower.”

 

“C’mere,” I ordered, and relaxed back into the exquisitely soft bed. Jo was every inch the shy bottom in response to my tone. I stared at the length of softly muscled leg she showed as she sat beside my hip. “You said that you played. Are you willing to do so with me?”

 

“Yes,” she said quietly, but without hesitation. “Please ma’am.”

 

“Good. Then we should have some ground rules. Lemme think… I used to have this long ass list of kinks memorized. So you can nod along or shake your head as I call them off, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“And let me know if I miss something. Let’s see… ass play? Good, I can work with that. I don’t do asphyxiation. Can you take a beating? Good, I hope you enjoy it too.” That shy, eager look was a good one on her. I was never going to be able to look Jinny in the face ever again. “Blindfolds, biting, bondage? Much as a branding would look fine on your pretty skin, we’ll hold off. Your Mistress would rightly have a conniption fit if I marked you permanently, and I hate pissing off other Tops. I happen to have a special fondness for these boots.” Blue eyes dropped down my sprawled legs to the much-beloved footwear. “Keep that thought in mind. Cages? Okay, not that one, no problem. Caning? Okay, you seem ambivalent, fair enough. Chains, clothespins, maybe I should get you a set of cuffs to match that collar, yeah that’d be sweet.” Poor Jo was getting worked up and I still had a lot to cover. “Bet you’re competitive too. I pack and enjoying using the equipment wherever we think it might do the most good. There will be some slapping around, but I won’t bruise your face or anywhere that will handicap. There’s no place for that here. After all,” I teased fondly, daring to run a hand along her tense thigh. “We have to work too. Still with me?”

 

“Yes,” Jo whispered after noisily clearing her throat. “I haven’t had this kind of conversation outside of my Mistress.”

 

“You’re doing fine. I’ll try to hit the high points. Fisting? Oh? I’ll remember that… Gags, harnesses, giving head, hoods, hot oil, wax, whatever. Knife play, lingerie, mouth bits, mummification, nipple play; clamps, whipping, that kind of thing. Temporary piercings?”

 

“Never tried it…”

 

“Hmmm. Okay then, we’ll keep that one in reserve. You were wearing that latex shirt, so I’ll add that to the ‘yes’ list. Spanking? That’s always a good solid staple. I do a mean full-bodied strapping too. Suspension? Are you ticklish?” Trailing my teasing hand up her leg, I ducked under the towel and poked her in the ribs. Jo jumped a little, but not a strong reaction. “Uniforms? Yeah, me too. Voyeurism, whipping, paddles? I think I’m out of ideas.”

 

“Riding crops,” Jo added softly, burning with embarrassment and hormones. Generally, I thought the things were a cliché, but I certainly had no problem using one to turn her on. “And Pai was teaching me to dance.” That certainly had my attention. “And a few times the pack of them did some prison and interrogation scenes that had me useless at work for days. That’s why I’m a little weird about cages. It’s a turn-on, but sometimes hits a little to close to home. Ice cubes?”

 

“Sure. Maybe I’ll finally have Jane teach me that fancy Japanese macramé bondage.” It was fun to see the burn of carnal interest in her crystal eyes. “Now come here and kiss me.”

 

This assignment was shaping up to be a hell of a lot more fun than I had originally anticipated…

 

**To Be Continued…**


	10. The Page of Swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia joins the Swords, and they make quite an entrance to Chicago, while Dace relearns some sorely missed skills with Jo’s willing help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: NC17. Enjoy!
> 
> Pairings: Kerry/Zo. Dace/Jo.

++ Olivia ++

 

How the hell had I gotten talked into this exactly? Elliot was eyeing me half speculatively and half accusatory. “You okay?”

 

For a moment I didn’t answer, merely gazed up at this big man who’d been my partner for four and half long years. It was going to be disturbing not to have him right here. “I hope so. Listen, Elliot, please be careful while I’m gone. I worry.”

 

He snorted humorlessly and scooped up my travel bag as my phone began to ring. “I’m more worried about you. I mean, what the hell are you gonna do without being able to find a decent New York hot dog?”

 

I chuckled as I flipped the buzzing cell open. “Olivia?” Came Michael’s voice. “We’re in front of the precinct.”

 

“Be down in a minute.”

 

We talked about work while we made our way to the mean street. A black limo waited there in the discolored snow and slush. Leslie stood at the door like a proper manservant in his chauffeur’s cap and heavy woolen coat. With no warning, I turned and quickly gave Elliot a rough hug. He barely had time to return the squeeze. “Be safe,” he grumbled and stepped away, handing the bag to Leslie.

 

“I will. You too.” Elliot gave no indication that he’d heard me, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the familiar figure vanished back into the building. A long moment passed in the icy January afternoon, before I sighed and finally handed my smaller bag to Leslie. “Well, let’s do this.”

 

Halfway into the limo, I glimpsed the rest of my companions, but was stopped by my name being called by another familiar voice. So I straightened up and faced my pursuer. Just in time too, as Alex’s inappropriate-for-January high heels slipped on the icy stairs and I was slammed back into the big car by her weight.

 

“Sorry,” Alex stammered, pressed in so close that my lizard brain perked up along with certain other parts of my anatomy. “You’re leaving?” She sounded like she was going to cry and I winced. Things had been awkward since that night I’d taken her drinking with my pals. The irony that Michael and her pack were in the car behind my ass was not lost on me. Hell, Leslie had practically caught us both and now stood frozen, well inside our personal space, and looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “You can’t,” Alex insisted and I couldn’t help but look at her oddly. The woman was rattled and disheveled, and neither state was normal.

 

“Alex, look, I’ll miss everybody, but I have to help Michael out. She needs me.”

 

“I need you,” Alex whispered plaintively and her beautiful eyes flooded with tears. Okay, now I was really confused. What the hell was going on? Before I could speculate, or closely examine the kernel of hope deep inside, Alex shocked me stupid by curling both hands around the back of my skull and planting one on me. It was a sloppy kiss, desperate and uncoordinated and one-sided, as I was far to astonished to react. It was however, warm and meaningful, that much I got. For a long moment, I was privileged to taste the sweetness of this beauty’s kiss, the feel of her narrow hips under my hands. Then Alex leaned back, leaving me gaping in shock, and glared at me fiercely. “I need you, and don’t you forget it. Please be careful, and come home safe.”

 

And she was gone, leaving me with more questions than answers.

 

++ Dace ++

 

After a great big yawn and a luxurious stretch, I bounced to my feet and loomed over Jo. “Shy girl,” I coaxed. “I like looking you in the eye.”

 

“Really?” Jo sounded bewildered.

 

“Really. If I’m this close, that usually means that I’m interested only in you at the moment. Eye contact lets me tell you all kinds of things.”

 

“Okay,” Jo whispered, blue eyes trying to shyly meet mine.

 

“You really are a seductive thing,” I growled and ducked down to kiss her again. There was something about a soft, willing woman that let me dominate her that made me a little wild. When I forced her teeth open to kiss her more thoroughly, Jo didn’t fight me at all and I knew that we would get along just fine. When she finally whimpered, I yanked the towel off and roughly shoved her face-down on the bed.

 

That’s when I saw the tattoo. It was a beautiful piece, laying within the shallow groove of her spine, dead in the center of her back. A sword, wreathed in icy white-blue flames, the crossguard and hilt wrought in the distinctive shape of a spade. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence…

 

“So,” I said conversationally as I looked around for something to warm her ass up with. A single, gentle finger-stroke down the tat, made Jo moan like a cat in heat and arch up just as sexy. “Let me ask you a few questions about your New York Mistress.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Jo said breathlessly, but her voice held a question as to why I kept bringing up the mystery woman. Dammit, I’d left my pants with the new belt in the bathroom and didn’t want to walk away and lose the anticipation I was building.

 

Then I realized what I had in my hands and chuckled evilly. Never let it be said that I wasn’t the Jackie Chan of leatherwomen. Anything could become a prop in a scene and I began to coil the damp towel while I spoke. “A little tall, dark hair, full mouth, icy surface, makes drill sergeants seem friendly? Head of a group of toughs that have a thing for uniforms? Runs a security company? Has a sidekick? Cute red-haired guy that always smiles?”

 

Jo tossed her hair aside as she glanced over her shoulder in surprise. “That sounds just like her and Gabriel.”

 

I couldn’t help but laugh as the terrycloth coiled tight between my hands. “My dear, you belong to the institution of a woman I know as Fenris, the mythological Nordic wolf that would one day destroy the world. Hell of a woman, that Fenris. I trained side-by-side with her in our younger days, so you understand that now I’m particularly curious what you’re made out of.” Stepping back, I aimed carefully and felt a lifetime of training kick in. The tip of the makeshift whip snapped out and cracked against Jo’s ass. Barking in shock, Jo nearly jumped up, but subsided at my glare. “Just starting, Junkie, better brace yourself and get that pretty ass where I can get to it or I’ll start picking far more sensitive targets.” Even as Jo thrust her ass up, I lashed out and laid a second red mark next to the first. The towel would leave only shallow welts at best, but I’d sure as hell liked shocking her with the hit. While I rat-tailed her backside, I kept up the one-side conversation. “See, me and Fenris and Tiny and my best bud were all playmates back in the day. So I doubt that she’d care if I work you over. Hell, knowing Fen, she’d be insulted if I didn’t send you home worn out and knowing a few more tricks.”

 

All this time, Jo had kept up a steady stream of sharp little noises and groans at the whipping. She was a quiet one, but Fenris always did love self-control. It let her know when a slave was screaming for real. 

 

“Up on all fours,” I ordered and Jo obeyed, her breathing not harsh enough for my Toppy ego. I rolled the big towel into a long twisted sausage and grabbed the two ends in my right hand. Experimentally swinging it, I was impressed by the heft of my new toy. What a great tool! It had weight behind it, but wouldn’t cause any damage. The rolled terry thumped satisfyingly across Jo’s strong ass and I started putting my back into it.

 

The instant Jo cried out for real, the towel was tossed aside and I pinned her body to the bed with my weight, sinking my teeth into her bared neck. She was drenched and I thrust into her easily with the same hand that punished her. She deserved a nice, thorough fucking for that performance and I nestled our bodies together to do just that.

 

“Sing for it…” 

 

++ Zo ++

 

I knew that look. That wild-eyed, sensuous gleam of the freshly fucked. Not merely fucked, but fucked right. Jo was glowin’ with startled, wicked satisfaction and it was beautiful. Her body language was better too, more convincing and relaxed. Looked like Dace was a good teacher. Not that I hadn’t expected it, the way Jo’d been howling a short while ago. Is that what Elizabeth used to hear listening to me and Kerry? No wonder the woman had been in such a massive state of crush!

 

As if conjured up by my curiosity, Dace paced out of the hallway, playfully goosing Jo, who jumped and squeaked. I admired the tall blonde as she raised her arms into a groaning stretch. My Chicago White Sox jersey had never looked so good. Maggie would be impressed that her gift had gone to such a great cause.

 

“You look better prepared,” I noted idly and their like eyes rested on me. Bet Kerry was grinning evilly where she sat beside me. “Guess you’ll want to stop by your hotel, huh?”

 

“Why bother,” Dace shrugged and lazily rubbed her belly. “You left us clean shirts and we’re gonna get sweaty anyway. I suppose I should scare up my cell phone in this palace. My ‘students’ are probably curious where I am.”

 

I heard her, but was distracted by the shape of Jo’s body. In just my snug Indigo Girls concert t-shirt, I could get a good look at her lines with a practiced artist’s eye. Deja-vu. The woman was built just like me under the tank top.

 

“Students?” Kerry asked as Jo squirmed beneath my curious gaze.

 

“Yeah,” Dace laughed. “They’re probably mad as hell that I wandered off on my own and left them hanging. What’s up, Zo? You’re staring.”

 

“Hmmm?” I hummed intelligently. “Just admiring Junkie here. So, are you two going for the daddy and boy look? Or can I help soften her up?”

 

Jo was startled and shied in closer to Dace’s bulk while the big woman eyed me flatly. “What did you have in mind?” Dace questioned in a deceptively quiet tone. This was not someone to be screwed with. I needed to quit assuming anything with them, anything at all.

 

“I have a shirt that she’ll look great in. May I?”

 

For a long, breathless moment, Dace continued to stare me down before shrugging. “Sure.” _Sto dheeahvaloh_ (damn), I was ready to throw myself at her mercy… Instead, I shook off that sexy, cornered-prey sensation and left the room. It took a few minutes to find it, hanging carefully in the back of my closet. There wasn’t much in my wardrobe that was too scandalous for me to wear very often, but this was one that demanded something really special. 

 

Back in the main room, Jo was standing rigidly next to the couch while Dace lounged lazily beside Kerry. “Here,” I said quietly and handed it over to Dace. She quirked a grin at me before those competent hands explored the leather shape. It was butter-soft kidskin dyed an inky mahogany with an intriguing shade of cinnamon lingering where the light hit. To my surprise, she dropped it back onto her lap and returned her attention to my girl.

 

“So you think I should change it?”

 

“Depends on the look you’re going for,” Kerry answered, matching Dace’s conversational tone. “Are you trying to look like one of the boys, or keep a girly edge?”

 

“I don’t know,” Dace sighed and pulled at a drooping forelock. “But generally the later. I’ve never been good at full drag. Dunno why.”

 

“I think that this shaggy, bed-head look suits you.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Changing it now will make you less recognizable to the locals who have been getting used to you.”

 

A warm grin made me smile and Kerry fairly glow. Big, scary Dace was a teddy bear under all the rough edges. Just like Karen. Excellent. “Thanks Kerry. You ever want to switch careers, you let me know.” Then, in the space of a single heartbeat, those eyes turned predatory and rose to pin Jo, who flinched. “Come here, Puppy,” she ordered softly and Jo obeyed. The fear and lust in her was a palatable force that flowed across my sensitive perceptions like spicy honey. Poor, poor Kerry was going to be the recipient of all these rampant hormones.

 

++ Jo ++

 

I had a feeling I knew where this was going… and my lust would go along with it. Even as my long-battered sense of social rules whined pathetically that this was wrong. “Lose the shirt,” Dace purred in that lioness tone that made me wild. There was a long pause before the flicker of the irritated predator in her calm gaze finally coaxed my hands into obedience. Burningly aware of Kerry and Zo’s silent stares, I grabbed the hem of the beige t-shirt, took a deep breath and skinned it over my head. Now down to the simple white bra, I waited for the order. Dace was a combination of proud and annoyed at the way our chemistry was playing out. Neither of us would give an inch. “And the bra. Let’s see if those marks have purpled up yet.”

 

Dace’s arousal made it easier to strip down to my skin and I stood proudly beneath their trio of stares. Kerry’s gaze was a startlingly cool contrast to Dace’s heat; Zo’s look was like a palatable caress on my back and side. “Careful with those hickeys,” Kerry commented dryly. “She might need a doctor.” Zo snerked and Dace chuckled in startled humor. I could feel the heat in my face as the doctor gave me an appraising glance, an eerie combination of clinical and appreciative. Then she stood and strode to me, ignoring the uncontrolled flinch that rattled my frame. “Relax,” she soothed in a low, calm voice and I’d bet patients were very responsive to. Cool fingers traced over the symmetrical bruises, making me flinch again in tickly pleasure/pain. “Teeth marks, Dace?” My partner huffed in amusement again, and Zo giggled. When her fingertips glided over the strong tendons in my neck and shoulder, I shivered. Kerry had a touch like her look, one that was a disorienting combination of warm, curious and detached. “Relax,” she encouraged again. “You’ll have to get used to being touched, at least in passing, by strangers. Think of it like the dreaded medical exams. You’re naked and vulnerable to strangers, but you’ve got somebody or two that will make sure that you’re safe. Would you like a hand with that shirt, Dace?”

 

“Sure,” the butch woman murmured and stood to box me in between their two bodies. Businesslike, but with enough caresses to make my breathing heavy, the two women settled the assemblage of leather strips and straps around my torso. “Very nice,” Dace purred, her fingertips gliding hypnotically along the upper edge of my jeans, my skin singing to her touch. “This looks wonderful on you Jo. Brings out your shy femininity.” With her hands on my belly, and Kerry tracing the cris-crossing straps on my back, I was badly distracted, and could feel the heat rising on my skin.

 

“Thank you, Dace,” I whispered and she smiled in approval. “Thank you, Kerry.”

 

“Go look at yourself in the mirror,” Dace encouraged with an indulgent smile and I scampered off to the bedroom to do just that.

 

Once I came back, we all sprawled out on the couch with me tucked up securely against Dace’s side. Zo flopped down on her other side and muscled the larger woman into shifting over. “Move it, Amazon, it’s Saturday night and I have a movie to watch before I have to work. I’ve been waiting for months for Lord of the Rings.” The TV blazed to life and flickered to the DVD logo. “This is possibly the best movie ever filmed. I’m dying for the next two!”

 

“You sound like a commercial,” Dace teased as Kerry mimicked my pose against Zo.

 

“Hey, I don’t argue with brilliance.”

 

Gandalf had just fallen to his doom onscreen, when I saw Zo’s legs go stiff where they were propped up on the coffee table. “What?” Kerry asked warily.

 

“Lemme up,” Zo was suddenly aflame with energy, practically flying into the bedroom, charging out a moment later with a battered spiral notebook in hand. Then she threw herself down in front of her fancy computer. “Let the movie run,” she called out distractedly and clapped the expensive headphones over her ears. “I’ll be over in a minute.” Since Kerry had hit the pause button when Zo had bolted from the couch, we could hear the dark woman muttering in some foreign language while she typed furiously. “Please tell me I still have it,” she murmured to herself suddenly in clear English while the rest of us watch in bemusement. “Ah ha!” She crowed as various windows opened and closed on the monitor. Checking her watch, she started muttering incoherently again. 

 

“Don’t look at me,” Kerry answered my questioning glance. “I have no idea what she’s ranting about. I’ve learned to just let it run its course. She’s brilliant, you know. Eccentric and unpredictable and a little insane, but absolutely brilliant.” It was obvious, the adoration between them.

 

A few seconds went by when Zo suddenly squealed something that almost sounded musical and Behbis started shrieking his feathered head off. Dace raised an eyebrow and Kerry laughed. Zo leaned over the pad of paper and began to feverishly scribble on it. Even as Kerry pointed the remote at the TV, Zo began muttering again, this time in rapid-fire, incomprehensible, extremely fluent Spanish. 

 

I peeked around Dace to meet eyes with Kerry. “She speaks Spanish?”

 

“Like a native. Greek and French too. She’ll be at that sketch pad for awhile, so we might as well do as she says and watch the movie until it’s time for you to go.”

 

++ Zo ++

 

As much as I annoyed Kerry sometimes by rarely being able to explain myself, she had learned to just let me be. It was rare that my actions had no point; it was just that I had a hard time articulating where they were headed. Rather than be constantly frustrated at trying to let everybody in on what I was doing and why, they usually learned to wait for the end result. So my doctor lover had learned to accept surprises. Mostly anyway. I adored her for tolerating my eccentricities and loving me in spite of them. The blaze of inspiration, or making that oddball leap of logic, was like lightning every single time. It would burn me alive until it found a way out, driving me insane with its feral energy. It was equal parts exhausting and exhilarating, the burn.

 

Eventually, I returned to the others, flopping down on the floor and resting against Kerry’s legs. As much fun as I might be having with the movie, my energy levels were making me vibrate, and I was dying to drag Kerry off for a quickie. Didn’t she know it too, trailing a lazy hand though my curls. It was almost a relief when Lord of the Rings was done and I could jump restlessly to my feet. “Just give me a few, and I’ll be right with you. C’mon Ker.”

 

Grinning evilly, Kerry let me drag her off to the bedroom for some R&R before I had to go dance. If there was one thing consistent about Kerry Weaver, it was the she was the most amazing lover ever gifted to the human species. Under the laser focus of her passion, there was never a doubt that I was the center of her universe. Be it a long, romantic evening or, like now, a rough quickie up against the bathroom door. There was something blissfully base and visceral lurking under her sweet and endlessly competent exterior, and it thrilled me. Panting like a racehorse, I let my brain settle back into my skull and began unwinding my fingers from her sorrel mane. “Good thing I have strong legs,” I sassed as Kerry loosened her death grip around my hips to let my right leg touch solid ground again.

 

“They got you all hot and bothered, love,” Kerry purred as she climbed to her feet and smothered me with kisses. _Theh-mou_ (My God), but I tasted good on her…

 

“Damn Skippy. I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep for awhile.”

 

“The muses are callin’, huh?” 

 

“Oh yeah, loudly. I’ll come in to say hello later before I paint.”

 

“Thank you, love.”

 

++ Michael ++

 

“Are we all ready for this?”

 

Four pairs of eyes rested on me, sober and serious. I had to admit that I was more nervous than the rest of my pack combined. Even with Pai doing her carnal damnest to distract me most of the flight with that wicked mouth and offering her body for love and abuse. The boys were both antsy and calm as well, and we were all feeding on each other’s nerves. Hell, even the unflappable Olivia was a little ruffled. Of course, after that scene with Alex, who could blame her.

 

When still a neophyte on the Scene, I had met the man who became known as Brann, a Celtic name for raven. I was Fenris, the dreaded dire wolf. We were a perfect team, his gregarious friendliness versus my icy discipline. Gramps and the Lady Heartsblood once joked that we were the younger incarnations of them. While in New York, we were the Archangel Gabriel and Michael. It was Brann, Tricky, as Dace used to call him, that kept me calm and sane during times of stress, the ultimate second in command. 

 

We’d pulled Leslie and Sangria off of the mean streets of Hong Kong just a couple of years ago. They were both dangerously close to being ruined by their lives of pretty faces and fine bodies peddled to whomever flashed enough cash. Now they were treasured pets, pampered and protected and well trained to mine and Brann’s needs. They were Bootstrap and Pai-Gow now, the completion of my little pack of adored playmates. For now, we’d adopted Olivia into our midst, and she stood co-beta wolf with Brann.

 

All of us were dressed in our leather finest, even Olivia, who’d I practically had to wrestle into the sleek kidskin uniform that hugged her neck to toe. The playing cards had been based after the tarot deck centuries ago. So, the Suit of Spades were the Swords, as we had always been about the starkness and discipline most obviously shown in the military mind. In honor of that, we were all sheathed in midnight kidskin, only the details of the uniforms showing rank and status. The Subs, Pai and Bootstrap, had their backs exposed, from neck to tailbone, the lashes I’d marked them with showing proudly. A small diamond of skin showed over Brann’s and Olivia’s sternum, where I’d inked a temporary spade tattoo on the woman to match the man. Only I was completely covered. All of us had hair slicked back, and Matrix-style wrap around sunglasses. How I adored the dark starkness of that movie’s look…

 

The small charter plane jostled to the ground and the engines wailed to brake the vehicle. The minute we were moving slowly enough to move about safely, I silently gestured the pups to me. Instantly, both of them were kneeling at my feet, eyes carefully watching my expression. “Now, you two be on your best behavior,” I intoned somberly and they chimed up in perfect unison.

 

“Yes Mistress.”

 

“Good.” As much as I might not spoil them by saying it, I was insanely proud of these characters. First Pai was snugly collared, because she would pout so if she were not always the first. Some days I would pass her over for the sole reason to provoke her, but not tonight. Olivia took her leash, swallowing discomfort at the unaccustomed role. Poor Pai and her insatiable crush on the sexy brunette cop. After running into them at the Chimera on New Year’s Day, Pai had been downright subdued around Olivia. Now after seeing the blonde woman she saw as a rival kiss Olivia senseless, she was obviously depressed. Not that anyone but her packmates could see it beneath the rigid training I’d beaten into her. Hard to believe that was only nine days ago, so much had happened…

 

Once Leslie was collared, Brann took him in hand and we gathered up the smaller items in the passenger compartment. Heavy woolen trenchcoats were pulled over the elaborately simple costumes as the plane slid to a smooth halt and the pilot stepped silently past us to open the door and lower the steps. Cold, bitter wind whipped at the heavy leather of my pantlegs and my thick ponytail. It smelled… well it smelled like Chicago. 

 

++ Jane ++

 

Goddess, it really was old-home week. First Dace and now Fenris. Sure, I had spoken to my old friend on the phone not that long about business in general, but the reality of her standing just a few hundred feet away was very different. “C’mon, then,” I murmured at Steph, who fell into perfect step at my right hand as I headed for the small plane.

 

“King of Swords,” I intoned with absolute seriousness, sensing the sharp gaze behind the mirrored sunglasses. “Greetings and welcome from the Suit of Clubs.”

 

“Queen of Clubs,” Michael returned the formal greeting. “The hospitality of the Suit of Clubs is recognized by the Suit of Spades.” We shook hands, a powerful grip of fingers and palms between equals, before grinning wildly at each other. The glasses were pulled away and I had a glimpse of Fen’s happy gaze before I was yanked into a suffocating hug. “It’s been too long. Too damn long.”

 

“Hell yes! Goddess, but it’s good to see you, Fenris.”

 

“You too. So, Dace is really here?”

 

“Wild, huh? And since she’s here, no one is going to make me disbelieve that Bane won’t be here soon.”

 

“Bane… damn, that would really make this a reunion!” Fenris chuckled throatily and flashed that powerful grin on Steph. “Good to see you, Cheetah.”

 

“Likewise, Fenris.”

 

“Still calling me Fenris?”

 

“You’ll always be the great wolf to us,” she chuckled and I blew off the comment breezily before imperiously gesturing for the pilot and two-man ground crew to take the luggage to the limo waiting beyond the fence. “We can talk more intimately in the car.” A grin flashed at Brann got me a bear hug the likes of which only Gramps and Tiny could match. “You look great, Tricky. I see you have new packmates. Good looking bunch.”

 

“Oh, I think you’ll like them, Tarzan.”

 

In the car, I grinned happily at my old pals and their new packmates. “I’m really jazzed that the Red Queen sent Dace. I think there’s more going on than just this reunion, but I’m still really jazzed.” A significant look flashed between Fenris and the auburn-haired woman confirmed that something was going on. I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Fine, be all mysterious, but eventually we all need to be on the same page here.” Fenris had the grace to look away uncomfortably and I gentled. “I’m glad KC sent you.”

 

“Me too!”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	11. Aces and Eights, the Dead Man’s Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is reunited with Dace and Jo. From across the country, someone brings more clues to the case and some old friends from Colorado and Nevada help her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG13, maybe an R.
> 
> Pairings: Dace/Jo. Anastasia/Tessa.
> 
> Disclaimer: “CSI”, the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis, and CBS Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "CSI: Crime Scene Investigators," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.

++ Dace ++

 

(1-8-02)

 

I’d horsed around all night with the Amazons I remembered, introduced myself to a few more, got some serious flirting practice, introduced Jo to Dana and Monica, apologized for making them worry about my whereabouts, and then gone home early and slept like a stone. Zo had pounced on us late afternoon and dragged us out for real Chicago-style pizza. We retrieved mine and Jo’s luggage, traded Emily stories, drank coffee, laughed our asses off and made Kerry and Jo roll their eyes in tolerant amusement. When we drove past Lake Michigan and I sneered at it, saying that the San Francisco Bay was cooler. Kerry gave me a dirty look and all of us laughed.

 

It was a great day until Jo was poking through my little bag and pointed out that my cell phone was dead. Considering that I hadn’t looked at the stupid thing in… what, two days? I hated cell phones, they were a sign of the apocalypse. Verbalizing that thought made Zo laugh so hard she nearly drove into opposing traffic. “You crack me up, Dace. Hope your buddies didn’t try to call you.”

 

The coincidence monster had struck again. Once back at Zo and Kerry’s place, I grabbed the power cord and plugged in the evil little device. Almost immediately it started squawking that I had messages. “Dammit,” I grumbled, irritably stabbing at miniscule buttons until it dialed my voicemail. I hated all this complicated new miniature technology. I’d owned vibrators bigger than this stupid thing. 

 

Jane’s voice flowed from the bitty speaker. “Hey you. Fenris is here, thought you’d want to come by and say hi, but you’re off with the pretty little dog, hey!” There was a clatter of sound and Fenris’ familiar deep, rich voice made me grin. 

 

“Oh, pack it in, Jane. Hey punk, I’ll keep an eye out for you at the Staff and Scroll. I trust that Junkie has been good to you? Take care, Dace, we’ll see you soon.”

 

Cursing and yet smiling, I noticed that they’d called twice more, but left no more messages. Jo watched me in silent curiosity and I gave her a quick, hard kiss. “We have visitors. Let’s see if we can’t scare up something special to wear, hmmm?”

 

Once more, it was Zo that helped us out by providing handfuls of fishnet material. While I tried to figure out exactly what they were, Kerry added in her two cents. “Zo, love? Why don’t you grab those jeans I love so much?”

 

“Oh, evil, Ker,” Zo cackled and galloped off to her room, laughing like a bad b-grade movie badguy. 

 

“She cracks me up,” I chuckled and finally figured out that I was holding a gay-boy mesh t-shirt that was way cooler than my ratty old one. Sweet. Kerry laughed when I dropped my leather jacket off my shoulders and tossed it to her. In a few moves, I was stripped to skin from the waist up and tugged the light, scratchy material on. “Oh, this’ll be a conversation piece. Get naked, Junkie.” Still a little self-conscious, Jo nonetheless did as I asked. “If I take the jacket off, all of our tattoos will show. Hmmm…”

 

“How many do you have?” Kerry asked half-curiously, eyeing my essentially naked torso.

 

“Not enough. But I also firmly believe that a tat should be a very intimate investment and mean something intense. Not some weekend whim. What can I say? I’m an ink snob.”

 

“Here we go,” Zo announced herself in the usual whirlwind of energy, handing Jo a flat, plastic package. “You got a really nice build, Junkie. You should show off.”

 

Jo muttered something no one but Zo caught, but I let it go when our hostess laughed.

 

++ Michael ++

 

As good as it was to see Dace’s tall frame materialize in the crowd, I was far more relieved to see Junkie hovering behind her. I’d tried for a long time to fool myself about my feelings for the brash Bronx cop. No one had been more surprised than me by my need to mark her permanently as mine. To tempt fate by making the tattoo so large and distinctive, and in a place where it could be seen semi-casually. White ink could never be removed, not even with a laser. The flames surrounding the sword would never come off. She would forever carry me in her skin. The startling sensitivity of that inked flesh was a wonderful bonus. I itched to touch her, reclaim her as mine. How I hated that she was in the path of danger… Gabriel chuckled and Dace grinned, inclining her head respectfully to me before scruffing Junkie and shoving her towards me. Stumbling, my pet clumsily dropped to her knees before me. 

 

“Mistress,” Jo said tightly, the discomfort and wet need in her tone making my mouth water. It took real effort to ignore her and acknowledge Dace, who waited with thumbs arrogantly hooked into her belt. I stood, giving Junkie’s head a brief but loving caress, and walked up to the tall woman to look up at her. 

 

“Leonacouer.”

 

“Michael.”

 

“Well at least someone uses that name.”

 

“Just this once,” Dace chuckled and I had to smile at her familiar humor. Some subtle indication in body language had us hugging tightly. “So damn good to see you, Fenris.”

 

“Entirely mutual, Dace. I’m glad that Jo could be here for you.”

 

“She’s great. Thanks for loaning her to me.”

 

“Oh, I’m betting that there’s more she can learn from you. Keep her for now, but if you’ll indulge me a quick hello?”

 

“Of course!”

 

So I turned to Jo while Gabriel went to hug Dace and say hello. “Junkie.”

 

“Mistress.”

 

“Look at me.” Reluctantly, Jo’s clear blue eyes rose, a myriad of emotions dancing in the depths. She was such a wonderful, beautiful woman. “Dace is proud of you. So am I. Kiss me quick, before I hand you back to you current handler.” Whimpering, Jo arched up to offer me the sweetness of her mouth and I purred in appreciation. “Good,” I finally whispered. “Say hello to Olivia and the pups, then return to Dace.”

 

“Yes Mistress.”

 

Now it was time for a proper reunion with the blonde woman I remembered all to well!

 

++ Olivia ++

 

The instant Michael took her eyes off Jo, I braced myself for the tackling full-body hug.

 

Jo didn’t disappoint.

 

“God damn, but I’m glad to see you,” she murmured in my ear while we squeezed each other tightly.

 

“I could hardly say no.”

 

“Yeah, I know how that is. You look amazing like this.”

 

There it was, the reminder of the get-up I was squirming in. The surprisingly soft leather had already conformed to my warmth, floating over my skin like an extension of it. Except for the seams, those kinda ruined the effect. Michael had teased me unmercifully about wearing underwear with the gear, but I had to for my own sanity. The fact that the inky hide was obviously brand new and stitched for my physique alone was bizarre. I wasn’t ready to go commando in it yet. Thank whatever deity that watched over fools like me that the thing was silk lined, not just for cleanliness and chafe reduction, but to keep the alluring touch of the soft leather away from my skin. The stimuli alone might kill me.

 

“That good, huh?”

 

I nearly smacked Jo senseless for that comment, but she ducked away to hug Pai and Leslie. It was so weird to see them together in this environment. I’d always thought of Jo as such a strong woman, above these kinds of perverse needs. Not like Pai, and especially not like sweet little Leslie. I liked them, but they seemed so… needy.

 

What was I missing? Sure, they’d explained the kinky thrill to be gotten from these extreme roles, from offering up body and dignity as exchanged for pleasures I really didn’t believe could be everything I’d heard. Jo told me those stories to shock me, didn’t she? But here she was, eager to please and completely in the thrall of these powerful women, like a well-trained dog waiting for her master’s praise.

 

But damned if she didn’t seem really happy about it.

 

++ Sara Sidle ++ 

 

(1-9-02)

 

The photocopied APB caught my eye the instant it had passed through my peripheral vision and I was riveted. It was a police sketch, rough and two-dimensional, of a cold-faced man that my lizard brain suddenly recalled all too clearly. That heartless, burning caress of those mad eyes as I had knelt beside yet another of the hundreds of victims of violence that Las Vegas saw with every turn of the seasons. For an endless moment I had seen him in the crowd, my spine vibrating with terror. Then the breathless moment passed and I had shrugged the odd incident off. Now, suddenly, I was faced with a rendering of the madman my brain was only now recalling. That wasn’t like me to forget details, I was obsessed by details, it was my damn job. But somehow, I’d forgotten those terrifying heartbeats beneath that inhuman gaze.

 

I was so distracted by the photocopy I’d pulled from the wall, that I walked right into a solid male body that ‘whuffed’ in surprise.

 

“Sorry, Warrick,” I stammered as he steadied me with big hands.

 

“You okay?”

 

“No,” I admitted with uncharacteristic honesty, never being one to admit weakness. Thrusting the now crumpled paper at him, I slouched over to a stool at the lab table and buried my face in my hands. “I saw him at a crime scene a while ago.”

 

“A while?” Warrick queried softly and sat across from me. “That’s vague.”

 

“I know,” I growled in annoyance. “But it’s like… like I can’t remember him clearly. Like he scared me so badly, that I tuned it out.”

 

The paper crinkled again as my coworker processed my words and my stress. “All points bulletin. The FBI’s serious about this.”

 

“He’s serial.”

 

“Yeah. You gonna call?”

 

“Yeah, in a minute. I… I have to talk to Grissom.”

 

“In his office.”

 

“Thanks. I have a weird feeling that my life is getting rapidly pulled out of my hands.”

 

I took the crumpled paper back and concerned, dark eyes watched me go.

 

++ Catherine Willows ++

 

“You needed me?” I sounded disgruntled even to my own ears, but dammit! It was Wednesday, and I’d had to leave Lindsey on one my few days off. But something in Grissom’s voice had dragged me in here, even if I wasn’t feeling particularly charitable about it. Then I noted Sara huddled in one of Gil’s extra chairs like she was frightened. Knees pulled under her chin and arms wrapped tight around her shins, she stared blankly into the room. Gil waved me silent, his concerned gaze on her. 

 

“I didn’t want to be a cop, I’m a scientist,” Sara murmured softly. “I don’t know if can do this.”

 

“Close the door please, Catherine,” Gil requested and I tugged it shut behind me. I was worried and carefully sat beside Sara before putting a hand on her tense arm. She jerked as though burned, but she was mentally back in the room now

 

“Are you okay?” I asked the stupidly obvious question and she grinned queasily, shaking her head. It was odd to see her so vulnerable and it tugged at my heartstrings. I’d worked with this woman for two years and she was still virtually a stranger.

 

“Shall I?” Gil asked softly and Sara nodded in relief. “Cath, there was a case last September where two men who were transient members of the leather community were beaten to death near a popular sex club. We never found a suspect or any conclusive evidence. There’s a serial killer loose in North America. He’s hit nine cities. Detroit, New York, Boston, Miami, Atlanta, Denver, Las Vegas, Vancouver B.C. and now he’s in Chicago.”

 

My puzzled expression said volumes, but even as Gil opened his mouth to continue, Sara spoke in a soft, distant tone. “I saw him at the scene. I can barely remember him, and I don’t know why. I was kneeling in an alleyway over this guy in leather that had been obviously beaten to death with a blunt object. He was still warm.” Her face screwed up in concentration. “Doc Robbins said later that it was probably a baseball bat. There were two victims there that died the same way with no evidence left behind. How could I forget all this?”

 

“You didn’t have a reason too, Sara,” Gil soothed in that fatherly tone of his. “We deal in facts, not fear. Are you certain you’re up to this?”

 

“No,” she whispered. “But in nine cities and seventeen victims, I’m only the second living eyewitness. What else can I do? No one seems to remember seeing him, just being afraid and being found by the police after the murders took place. God knows why I suddenly recognize him from that bad sketch, when I couldn’t even recall seeing him before.”

 

When I fired Gil a questioning look, he carefully explained, “We’ve been on the phone with an Agent Mulder of the FBI for nearly an hour. They’re desperate for an ID on this guy, but the case is fairly… complicated.”

 

“I’ll bet,” I replied archly, too concerned for Sara to deal with his usual cryptic behavior.

 

“He only hits gay leather players,” Sara added with a sigh and I realized where this was going. Tightening my grip on Sara’s arm, the pressure made her meet my eyes.

 

“You want me to come along and pose as your kinky girlfriend?”

 

Long moments passed while Sara struggled with herself. Embarrassment, fear and pride warred in her mercurial gaze and I was fascinated. “Please. I don’t have anyone else I trust,” she finally managed to whisper and the admission warmed and terrified me.

 

“You got it, cutie.”

 

Her relieved smile at my gentle tease made me grin and the first stirrings of a bond grew between us. Some subtle sound from Gil drew our attention back over. “You’ll need to meet up with some people from the local scene. I took the liberty of contacting Lady Heather.” The man looked mildly embarrassed and we both chuckled. “She informed me that the woman who’s the ‘top of the foodchain,’ and I quote, is preparing for some big event in Chicago, ironically. It’s a very exclusive, tight-knit community, even in a city the size of this one. The FBI isn’t thrilled with having additional people added to this from outside regular law enforcement, but I don’t see that we have any choice. Agent Mulder promised that he’ll fax the information of whatever contacts he can find here in Las Vegas. In fact…” The whirr of the fax machine interrupted him as paper began feeding out. “Having someone local and trusted will help integrate you into the culture and give you credibility. Sara, would you please brief Warrick on whatever caseload you have? We’ll handle things while you’re gone.”

 

“Sure,” she replied almost eagerly, uncoiling from the chair and grinning at me once more, almost shyly, before slipping out.

 

“Catherine, a moment please.”

 

I had expected to be asked to stay and settled into my chair now that Sara’s stressed-out energy was gone. “I’ll take it that this is going to be more complicated that you’ve let on?”

 

Uncomfortable and uncharacteristically at a loss for words, Gil sprawled back in his chair and pulled his glassed off. “You do realize what’s being asked of you, right?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

“This perp only hits gay leather players. That’s how the FBI finally came up with an MO on him. We’re talking about an extremely reclusive subculture that’s virtually impossible to infiltrate. It can take years. These people that will be working with you aren’t messing around.”

 

Growing nervous about the situation I was being sucked into and being a perpetual smartass, I sassed him, “Yeah, I remember you telling me basically the same thing after we met Lady Heather.”

 

The slow flush on his cheeks made me chuckle warmly. “That’s right,” Gill murmured softly. “I was very… frank that day.”

 

“I’ll say,” I teased lightly and my grinning must have reassured him that we were okay. Relieved and bit unnerved, Gil relaxed now that he knew I wasn’t going to freak. 

 

“It’s a healthy outlet with the right people.”

 

I couldn’t help myself and grinned wickedly. “So I’ve heard.”

 

After a startled moment, he chuckled and finally relaxed. With our camaraderie reestablished, he settled back and looked at me thoughtfully. “You must have seen and done quite a lot in the nightlife back in the day.”

 

Memories flooded through me, a searing kaleidoscope of drugs and bright lights and strangers. The roar of the music, unfamiliar and appreciative hands tucking their hard-earned dollars against my skin as I danced and gyrated for their pleasure and mine. The occasional pull of connection with a stranger that might only be a glance or a night of feral pleasures that even now made me blush.

 

“I can see that you did,” Gil smirked. “Think you can coax that part of you back out again?”

 

“Honestly? She’s never far away,” I confessed and he looked startled, sympathetic and impressed with my candor. Why on earth did I suddenly hear coyotes singing? Shaking my head to clear the strange thoughts, I refocused on Gil.

 

“Good, you’ll need her. Sara will too,” he encouraged and was abruptly all business. “Now, let’s see what Agent Mulder has sent over.”

 

++ The Lady Heartsblood ++

 

After my recent conversation with Jesse, I was hardly surprised by a phone call from the FBI. I remembered all to well those poor boys last autumn. How some people could hate others so much, to do something like that… I would never understand.

 

“Agent Mulder, I was already planning on attending a reunion meeting with some of my fellow players in Chicago. That young Dace is there on business with your organization as well as my own, hardly surprises me. We will be the picture of discretion. I assure you, we’re very good at it. As for integrating your two witnesses with my traveling party, that can be easily enough arranged. Send me whatever information you have. A fax number? Of course.” A knock on the door startled me, for there were very few that would intrude on my inner sanctum unannounced. “Pardon me for a moment, Agent Mulder.” Lowering the receiver, I put my Heartsblood persona on and turned my chair towards the door. “Enter!” When I recognized the tall figure framed in the doorway, I was absolutely delighted. “Tiger darling! So good that you could join this little expedition. How have you been?”

 

“Well enough, My Lady,” Karen purred softly and entered to bow courteously over my offered hand. With no hesitation, she ritualistically kissed my knuckles before meeting my eyes fully. “Emily and Darya send their love.”

 

“Excellent, I will have to visit again once all of this is over. Sit for a moment and my attention will be yours very shortly.” With an enigmatic smile, Karen did as I asked so that I could return my attention to my phone call. “Agent Mulder? Thank your for your patience, do continue. You said they were police? CSI? Oh! Forensics, of course. Forgive an old woman’s memory. I’ll have a car sent to the main building downtown in two hours, if you would pass that information on. Tell them that a woman named Karen Taylor will be their contact. Good. I’ll transfer you to my assistant now for the details. Safe? I go nowhere and do nothing without Tessa, she can be trusted implicitly. Excellent, I’ll transfer you now.” 

 

With a few buttons, that task was complete and I turned my attention to the silent woman sitting in my office. In my eyes, there had never been anyone as striking and adept as Karen Taylor. I adored the imposing woman wholeheartedly and still wished that one day I could hand the reins of my kingdom to her. Even as I knew it would never happen. As supremely talented as Karen was at the Scene, she could not and would not live it as a complete lifestyle. There were higher loyalties to be obeyed and I could only remain wistful. While she played under the name Bane Shidhe, she allowed me the familiar nickname of Tiger. She was just like those magnificent orange cats, bright yet stealthy, beautiful and dangerous and almost nothing escaped her notice. Even now, her sharp attention was focused on me, digesting the phone call that she had overheard. “Young Dace has stepped into it this time.” I mused thoughtfully.

 

“She’s good at that.” Karen chuckled, but the sound was strained. Sighing, she ran a hand through her magnificent, fiery mane and leveled a loaded look at me. “As I told you yesterday, she called me directly to ask for help. I didn’t really understand the connection between these killings and Silverback contacting you until now. Dace is a cop in San Francisco, I’ve always known that, and it must have something to do with the killings.”

 

“I understand.”

 

“She’s a damn good cop, but it’s weird that two cities so far apart are swapping personnel. And there’s another detective from New York acting as her partner. I barely understand what’s going on.”

 

“Jesse mentioned nothing about this case.”

 

“He may not realize what’s going on. I think that Sylvia was serious about apologizing, since it’s such an extreme change in her behavior. Dace is more than smart enough to weave the two events together for maximum benefit.”

 

“You always did have a soft spot for her,” I teased lightly and I was surprised at Karen’s sharp glance.

 

“And you were always too hard on her.” Now that was blunt, even for the Tiger and I felt myself bristling. I was unaccustomed to having my authority and opinions challenged. “I’m sorry My Lady, I’ve always been very protective of Dace. She’s family to me just as much as you and Tessa.”

 

“Ah well, I’m probably just jealous,” I joked and wondered if perhaps that’s not exactly what I was. There was a long, uncomfortably silence before I cleared my throat and got back to the business at hand. “There is a local forensics officer that witnessed what appears to be the killer last year. I knew one of the victims, he was a local, and I think I remember the woman officer. Fairly tall, high-metabolism slender, sharp-eyed, eager to please, second-soprano voice with an edge to it like she had something to prove. Probably the youngest in her work pack.”

 

“So the pup has something to prove?”

 

“If I’m right.”

 

“My Lady, aren’t you always right?”

 

“You do play the game well, my dear.”

 

“I learned from the best.”

 

Now I was forced to laugh at her flirting and flattering. I was glad that the tension between us was short-lived. A knock on the door made us pause. “Enter.”

 

“Madam?” Tessa asked softly as the door clicked open. “The documents you requested have arrived.”

 

“Come inside.”

 

“Yes Madam,” she demurred and strode over on silent feet to hand me a sheaf of fax pages. This woman was my pride and joy, my most loyal subject and I adored her so. In keeping with our relationship, I took the pages and perused them with seeming nonchalance. The pictures were typical ID photos, mugshots really, and only showed that one woman was light and one dark. I took my time, knowing perfectly well that Tessa was dying to jump on the Tiger, who was watching her with predatory laziness. They both knew that I would allow them to play, but only at my leisure. There was something niggling at my memories about the pale one, but I attributed it to a senior moment.

 

“Tiger, would you like to see our new pets? Such a shame that we won’t be able to play with them properly, but will be forced to only pretend.” As I held out the papers, Tessa stepped aside without even seeming to move. She was the kind of slave that the other Tops drooled over: tall, statuesque, supermodel gorgeous, and perfectly mannered. Karen took the pages and studied them quietly while Tessa squirmed without moving a muscle.

 

++ Karen ++ 

 

As much as I would have liked to have grabbed Tessa and molest her hello, I knew to wait for my Lady’s permission. It would come in time. When Dace had called me with that uncharacteristic tremor of fear in her voice, I called Hammond up that afternoon to secure permission to leave the base. It had been a bit awkward to explain what I was getting into, without really explaining anything at all, but he knew me very well and had given in. 

 

Last night had been Emily’s. High as a kite to be one day from big-girl five, she had happily allowed me to spoil her rotten with dinner at Tony Roma’s where we made complete disasters of masses of sticky ribs. After that we had rough-housed at her favorite park and fed the ducks until it was full dark. Spending quality time with the girl was a serious priority in the household. I had been gone for nearly five weeks to get her mother pregnant in the first place, and now there was a new baby on the way. while she was unhappy that I was going, she had willingly let me go, which still confused the hell out of me. For the four-odd months I had been back from my oh-so-long trip, the girl had hardly let me out of her sight, even to work. Yet, she showed her mother’s endless sensitivity about ‘unca’ Dace needing me. A kiss on the cheek and a grave look that was so her, Emily had placed her little hands on my shoulders and said somberly, “you take good care of unca Dace and I will be a good girl.” She was such a great kid. I was gonna miss my girls so damn bad…

 

So, here I was in the City of Sin. It was my home away from home, for the Scene here was perfect for my needs. There was anonymity, access to an endless variety of playmates and a mentor that would look out for me. I owed a significant part of my sanity to Lady Heartsblood, for her support and molding of my darker impulses had been a boon like none other. As I had flown across forest and desert, I had felt the familiar shift in personality from Karen to the Tiger. But only in the presence of my mentor did I truly slip completely into the role. 

 

Shaking off my musings, I focused on the papers. The fuzzy black and white photos were like mugshots, one dark and one fair. Damned if the blonde didn’t look really familiar... Shrugging off the niggling curiosity, I memorized their names and a few pertinent facts that jumped out at me before returning my attention to the Lady. “So, Sidle is the one that saw the killer.”

 

“Yes. The FBI passed on what they knew about the two of them. I think with a firm, kind hand Sara will fit in nicely.”

 

“And Willows used to be a local dancer. Huh. Maybe that’s why she looks familiar.”

 

“Yes,” The Lady mused thoughtfully. “She seems familiar to me as well.”

 

“These women have nice credentials.”

 

“These women are scientists,” Anastasia mocked me lightly and I grinned saucily. 

 

“You know how I love scientists.”

 

“Yes, you always were a connoisseur of the smart ladies. Yes, Tessa, you may say hello now.”

 

“Thank you Madam,” Tessa breathed gratefully and practically jumped into my lap. Chuckling, I crushed her close, stealing a deep kiss. “I’ve missed you stud,” Tessa chuckled lightly against my mouth and I smiled.

 

“You make it sound like you’re a neglected housewife.”

 

“Never. Speaking of which, how is your wife?”

 

“Okay, I guess. I just feel so bad leaving her with a four-year-old while four months pregnant. Thank whatever deities watch over fools like me for Janet and Art and Sam.”

 

“Good.” Tessa smiled prettily and I tweaked her bottom lip.

 

“My Lady?”

 

“Yes Tiger?”

 

“Is there anything that needs to be done before I go and pick up your new pets?”

 

“Not that I can think of. Let’s make a good first impression, take the Mercedes and Tessa.”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	12. The Queen of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine and Sara join the hunt for Snake-Eyes, Karen and Anastasia help them along, while Jane and Dace discuss secrets and mysteries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Dace/Jo. Anastasia/Tessa.
> 
> Spoilers: References to Xena mythos, hints of The Sentinel.

++ Catherine ++

 

I’d questioned Gil on the leather scene until a jumpy Sara had returned to collect me. It had been a hugely entertaining, embarrassing and bonding to have that conversation with this man I’d known for so long. Even more than all those months ago when we’d worked that case in the fetish club across town. Even now I could hear the soft voice of the woman who ran the vic’s workplace. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’ve got everything it takes to be a great dominatrix.” It looked as though I was going to get a chance to find out if Lady Heather was right.

 

But Sara needed me now and I focused on that. We’d gone to her place while I called and arranged some long-term care for my daughter. She was put out about me up and vanishing with no more warning than a ten minute phone call. Once I carefully explained that it was for work and to help out Sara, she’d relented with a ‘miss you’ that left a lump in my throat. Sara had looked at me oddly as I hung up. 

 

“She okay?” Sara asked as she finished stuffing casual clothes in a couple of duffel bags.

 

“I hope so. I don’t often just up in bail long-term in the pursuit of work, so she should be fine. My sister and mother will take good care of her.”

 

At my place, I repeated the process while Sara politely wandered around. The walk-in closet had been one of the selling points on this house and I stood in the middle of it and eyeballed that musty back corner. I’d kept them for years, all those risqué clothes from my wild days. To start practicing giving in to my wilder urges, I started shoving a few outfits into a bag. As I finished my packing, I heard Sara’s phone ring and her voice drifted through my little townhouse. She was clicking the cell shut as I came in with a few pieces of luggage.

 

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Sara teased and I shrugged carelessly.

 

“Better safe than sorry.”

 

“Oh hey, Gris called. He said something about a car coming around to work to pick us up in just under an hour. Nick is on his way over to give us a ride back.”

 

“Great. Sounds like fun.”

 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

 

“Sara,” I huffed mockingly and she smiled. “Both of us are going to be uncomfortable. But you,” I emphasized and stepped over to poke her in the chest. “Have never lived the wild side much I’ll bet.”

 

“Oh, come on, I’m not that uptight.”

 

“Yes, sweetie, you are,” I mocked and grinned widely while she scowled with no menace. “Who knows, this case might be good for you.”

 

“Hey! I partied plenty in college.”

 

We bantered back and forth while dragging our luggage to the curb to await Nick’s arrival. 

 

++ Sara ++

 

The verbal parrying was still going strong as Nick pulled up in one of the work trucks. Before he could ask any questions of where we were going or what we were doing, we had dragged him into the banter. It continued until we were striding through the familiar halls of the crime lab. But the light conversation abruptly tapered off as we came around the corner near Grissom’s office. There was a striking figure of a woman there, speaking with him. Towering at least four inches over Gris, with an expansive mane of wavy sorrel-red hair and dressed entirely in dark brown leather, she was eye-catching. Then they both turned to greet us. Something that looked distinctly like shock flashed across the woman's face, quickly stifled beneath her smile.

 

“Ah, here they are,” Gil smiled and waved us over. “Thank you Nick.”

 

Shaking off his shock, Nick took the gentle dismissal to heart and wandered off down the hallway. Up close, the woman was a good-looking old-world Irish warrior with sparkling eyes like pure emeralds and a knowing smile to match. “Karen Taylor, but call me Bane Shidhe,” she offered softly in a low, almost growling voice. “Your picture doesn’t do you justice, pretty girl.”

 

Despite my current company and where I was, I felt the embarrassed flush on my neck and cheeks. I had never been good at taking compliments or this kind of gently intent flirting. She meant exactly what she said and I was unsure of how to accept the sweet comment. “Thank you,” I demurred quietly and made myself look away from her magnetic gaze, but not before catching her dazzling smile.

 

“My pleasure Sara. And you,” she growled playfully as she turned her attention to my partner. “Are Catherine. I am delighted indeed. Where the Lady Heartsblood has shown an interest in taking young Sara in hand, you are mine.” Without giving either of us a chance to react, Karen focused on Gil. “The Lady is appreciative of your time and cooperation, Gil. We’ll keep you posted on how things are progressing.”

 

“Thank you. Oh, and please give my regards to the Lady.”

 

“My pleasure,” Karen smiled and effortlessly scooped up two pieces of Catherine’s luggage. “Come along pets. We have an appointment to keep.”

 

“Take care of yourselves,” Gil added and I paused. He really did look concerned. Before I could decide if I was going to do it or not, Catherine beat me to it, hugging Gil tightly. Boy, did he look surprised. Pleased, but surprised. “I’ll miss you Cath.”

 

“It’s mutual, old friend. Keep those boys in line.”

 

There was a moment of awkwardness that, ironically, Gris broke first. He was warm and solid, my last link to the familiar world I was leaving behind. “They’ll take good care of you,” he whispered softly against my ear. 

 

“Okay,” I whispered back, missing him already. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

“I’ll be here.”

 

I only vaguely remembered going outside and pausing at the front door beside Catherine and Karen. “Are you ready for this?” The strange woman finally asked me gently and I blinked as though waking up.

 

“No,” I answered her truthfully, sensing that there would be no lying to her.

 

“Are you willing to accept help?”

 

What an odd question. Then I realized that help was exactly what I would need from these strangers to help stop a serial killer. Somehow I knew I could trust Karen implicitly and relief spread through me. “Yes.”

 

“Good. Then we’ll do fine.”

 

++ Catherine ++

 

In all honestly, I had no idea what to make of her. Intimidating and soothing all in one package, wrapped in hand-made leathers that were a cross between modern cut and archaic craftsmanship. Like the clothes, she was a strange combination of well-bred and feral. Knowing that I was safe in her hands, I decided to wait and see where this was going. A sleek Mercedes pulled up to the curb and the trunk popped open. A gorgeous dark-haired woman nearly Karen’s impressive height came around to help with our bags. She smiled winningly at Sara and I both as she expertly gathered up our bags. Sara sidled up to me as though seeking reassurance and I was grateful for her closeness. Karen gallantly opened the back door and smiled. “We’ll take you to the Lady Heartsblood now. Climb in.”

 

Sara obeyed with only a slight hesitation, much to my amusement, and I followed her into the lush interior.

 

“Okay, now what,” I asked as we settled in and put on the seatbelt. The dark-haired woman slid in behind the wheel while Karen took the passenger seat and twisted to grin at us.

 

“The airport. You two get to go to Chicago in style. Just remain loose and flexible and the Lady Heartsblood will take care of you.”

 

“That’s it?”

 

“Relax Willows, you’re in the best of hands,” Karen chuckled and turned her back to us. I wasn’t sure if that made me nervous or relieved. A glance shared with Sara reflected the same feelings in her eyes.

 

Traffic was on our side as we made our way to the outskirts of the airport. “Where are we?” Sara asked as we were obviously far from the bustle of the main terminals.

 

“I’d say it was a surprise, but you’re cops and I won’t mess with you like that,” Karen chuckled and gestured to the approaching security gate. Beyond the fence was a sleek, private jet waiting.

 

“Wow.”

 

Wow indeed.

 

++ The Lady Heartsblood ++

 

Being what many would see as nothing more than a perverted and kinky madam, I had seen and been involved in some very strange shit. 

 

This whole thing was beginning to climb very high on my list.

 

There was a serial killer attacking the leather scene. Two crime scene investigators were being put in my care, entrusted to me to be put undercover in a Scene their ilk busted as much as they played. Then again… very few players knew what anyone else did outside the clubs and parties. I knew for a fact that some of my most loyal regulars were on the city, county or federal payrolls. The anonymity was part of the appeal. As the Mercedes pulled up, the twin engines began to whine in preparation for takeoff. Four figures, only two of which I knew, quickly collected luggage and headed over. As the strangers entered the light spilling from the plane, the odd pull I had felt to the small blonde struck again. In the lousy light, I still couldn’t get a close look at her. Sara Sidle flashed me an uncomfortable smile.

 

“Welcome officers, your chariot awaits,” I raised my voice above the engines and climbed in first to establish a subtle dominance in this situation. 

 

“Wow,” one of them breathed as I went to my usual seat. The other chuckled and something about the voice twigged a memory. Could Catherine Willows sound as familiar as she looked? A glance over my shoulder and I was transported back twenty years.

 

KC Koloski was boisterous, brass and utterly charming. This complete stranger looked more like her than the woman’s daughter! I knew exactly what Catherine Willows would look like in thirty-some years.

 

Some of my shock must have shown on my face, and I quickly schooled it into calm. The noise from the idling engines vanished with a ‘whoosh’ as Tessa pulled the door closed and seamlessly began a cabin check to prepare for takeoff. My Tiger bared her teeth at the new women and they took the first seats they found. A quick, friendly swat for Tessa and Karen sketched me a quick bow. “I’ll be up front, ma’am,” she deferred and headed for the cockpit. While she might not be a true pilot, she knew enough to be useful to the man flying the plane. Stashing the bags and quietly ensuring that our guests were comfortable in the luxurious seats, Tessa was as indispensable as ever. Ken’s voice floated over the small interior speakers. “We’re ready for takeoff.”

 

A glance at Tessa and our guests confirmed that everyone was strapped in securely, so I pushed the conformation button on my chair and the engines rose to a fever pitch. Even hideously expensive sound shielding couldn’t conceal the sound of the jet laboring its way into the sky. Only when the muffled racket and the angle of climb leveled out, did I turn my attention to the two police officers. Both pairs of eyes rested quietly on me, their deference to my position very reassuring. They didn’t have to respect me, but their willingness to do so would help disguise them in Chicago.

 

“Promising,” I praised in a toned-down version of my Mistress voice. “Your respectfulness will serve you well undercover.”

 

There was a glint of shy amusement in Sara’s beautiful dark eyes, and warm good humor in Catherine’s pale gaze. They were totally opposite in body language and the way they met my eyes, intriguing me. Neither spoke and my quiet praise deepened even more. Right on cue, the ding sounded lightly through the passenger compartment and Tessa slipped unobtrusively into the back. I stood and went over to my guests, extending a hand to the elder.

 

“Anastasia Rogers, the Lady Heartsblood,” I introduced myself quietly. “There won’t be many who will say it, but thank you both for doing this. Despite the common perception of my ilk, we’re just people too.”

 

That earned a sparkling smile from Catherine, who willingly shook my hand. “Catherine Willows and Sara Sidle, pleased to meet you. We’re happy to be of service, but you’ll need to… break us in, so to speak.”

 

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the humor, particularly when Sara pinked around the edges. Such a pretty, shy thing she was. Jesse would be delighted with her and ever so disappointed that she was a girl! Particularly since she looked so much like young Bruce, who I knew my old friend still missed sorely. Both had solid handshakes, even if Sara had a tough time meeting my eyes.

 

“The chairs turn sideways for ease of conversation. My balance isn’t what it used to be, so I usually remain seated during flight. Feel free to move about, Tessa will be out in a moment with refreshments.” 

 

While Tessa attended to our guests, I continued to watch them covertly. Catherine was none-to-subtly checking Tessa out and my beloved pet preened discretely. Sara seemed more intrigued by the décor of the plane. How to get her focus on the task at hand? The few prized paintings were of subject matter that left most people puzzling over the content or subtly uncomfortable with the responses of the lizard brain. It was that primitive part of Sara’s psyche that was shining in her earthy eyes now. After giving the almost painfully slender woman some time to process, I spoke to her in my best subtly intimidating manner. “Intrigued?”

 

She wasn’t certain how to answer, her upper brain struggling to wrest control from its base twin. How I loved to watch the struggle between intellect and instinct. There was a part of her that knew I was breaking social rules by staring so intently, even as the beast all humans carried deep inside bristled at the threat in the gesture.

 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” I commented softly and gestured at the three paintings. Her eyes automatically obeyed the bidding of my hands and I again wished that I could see what she was truly made of. I wasn’t in the habit of restraining myself in an environment like this, for my pets came to me for their particular needs. It was supremely strange to know that Sara was only window dressing, so to speak. This whole situation was going to require some serious adapting on the part of us that truly did play the Scene. 

 

“Yes,” Sara answered me as her eyes returned to mine. “Ma’am,” she added hastily in response to something in my expression.

 

Such a waste…

 

++ Karen ++

 

Something woke with me with a jerk and I instantly took stock of where I was and what was going on around me. Some habits were worth letting your body remember, even if Ken did look at me oddly. We were still deep in the grip of deep night, but the altimeter showed that the plane was at a lower altitude. A great yawn blurred my perceptions for a long moment before I blinked it away. “I’m gonna go see if the Lady needs anything.”

 

“No prob, we’ll be in Chicago within half an hour,” Ken grinned as I slipped from the cockpit and into the passenger compartment. The lights were down low, the brightest illumination coming from the blue running lights along the walkway. All four of them were sprawled back in the luxurious chairs, sound asleep. I woke Tessa first, so that she could attend to Anastasia, and then I went to Sara. The woman slept shallowly and curled up in a tight little ball. It spoke volumes about her state of mind, both on the surface and deep in her subconscious. So I wisely stayed out of striking range and rested one hand on her thigh.

 

Sara jumped like a skittish dog, nearly bolting from my light touch. “Hey there,” I charmed in the tender tone I usually reserved for Emily and Darya. Something dark and scared lurked in Sara’s wide gaze before it was ruthlessly shoved back in its box. Interesting. “We’re getting close to Chicago and then we can get you into a real bed. Sound good? You hungry at all? I need to get Catherine up and I can grab you something light to eat.”

 

Mutely, Sara nodded and swallowed hard. “I’m a vegetarian.” I refrained from making a ‘gun toting-lesbian-vegetarian’ comment and just gave her thigh a squeeze before standing. Catherine was yawning hugely in her seat and stretching like a sleepy kitty.

 

“Mornin’ Sweetness,” I sassed, and gave her a quick swat on the butt as I walked by. The glare was a palpable force on the back of my head and I just chuckled. Before I could even step into the tiny commissary, Tessa set a tray of fragrant coffee in heavy earthenware mugs in my hands. “Invaluable, as always,” was my compliment and retraced my steps. Anastasia looked tired, worn-out and more than a little melancholy. “Lady?”

 

“Oh Karen,” she smiled at me and I hated that she was growing old and frail. The woman was the only real mother I had ever known and I loved her dearly. “What ever would I do without you and Tessa?”

 

“Somehow, I think that you would manage,” I teased affectionately and kissed her gently to coax up a smile. “We’re beginning our decent and should be on the ground within half an hour or so.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

“Is there anything you require?”

 

“Your company, dear one.”

 

“My pleasure. Just let me get caffeine to our guests and Tessa should be out briefly with some snacks.”

 

Once the crime scene investigators were happily with coffee, I sprawled into the comfy seat beside Anastasia. There was the familiar discomfort of the curious on Sara’s face, and distinctly perverse amusement on Catherine’s. That one was going to be trouble. So I settled deeper into the seat and sharpened my gaze, felt deep inside to stoke that feral energy to life. Catherine stilled, the smile fading, as she recognized the beastly power. 

 

It was only the Lady Heartsblood that called me Tiger. Something about my coloring and the intense stare, she told me and the nickname had stuck. There was a tremendous power in the force of my flat gaze. I had spent a lifetime honing it into a deadly weapon, capable of paralyzing even the most stubborn of prey.

 

And this Catherine was a truly stubborn quarry. Her clear blue eyes narrowed as I held her gaze long and far past any social conventions. This was a battle of wills now. 

 

In the corner of my eye, I noticed the Lady steeple both hands in front of her face to gracefully conceal a smile. She knew this kind of mind game, the chessboard of psychological strengths and weaknesses. My weakness was my curiosity about this fiery wildcat. Now I had to figure out Catherine’s.

 

++ Lady Heartsblood ++

 

I never tired of watching my Tiger stalk. The woman was a genius at what she did and I once more wished I could persuade her to take my throne. But, whatever it was that she did in her daylight life, it was more important than anything I could offer. Knowing her discretion and integrity, it must be incredibly vital work. Every animal and intellectual neuron in her tall body was focused on the new prey before her now. It was a well-matched contest from my observations.

 

Whether Sara moved by accident or design, I had no idea, but it very effectively broke the staring contest. Catherine flickered her blue eyes only a millimeter away, but it was enough. There was a blur of red and brown-black and Catherine’s body recoiled defensively.

 

It wasn’t enough.

 

Karen was nearly astride Catherine’s lap, one hand bracing her weight on the seat between Catherine’s thighs, the other skillfully balancing the coffee mug, noses only millimeters apart. A startled squeak was the blonde’s only verbal reply, empty hand raised halfway to brush the dangling edges of Karen’s open jacket. 

 

Karen purred almost silently and Catherine remained tensed as though to fight back. Karen cocked her head playfully. “Sometimes to win, you have to surrender. Live to fight another day when your odds are better. Show your throat.”

 

Another long moment passed before Catherine relaxed and allowed her head to fall to the side, indeed exposing the jugular pulsing in her neck. The Tiger was obviously delighted, and I assumed the request had only been rhetorical. My protégé wisely rewarded such explicit obedience by dipping her head to carefully run just the tip of her tongue up the tight tendons in Catherine’s neck. The blonde’s nose wrinkled up in an expression that could almost be mistaken as distaste.

 

Until Karen’s soft mouth gently latched onto that thick vein to suckle lovingly. 

 

There was no mistaking that Catherine liked that just fine, the gasp stifled in her throat completely honest. A shudder ran through her body as I witnessed the white flash of teeth pinching flesh before Karen leaned back. “That’ll leave a nice, subtle mark. Good.” With a whisper of buttery leather, Karen was sprawled back in her seat, looking very pleased with herself. Catherine was embarrassed but distinctly aroused while Sara could only stare speechlessly. “You may want to button up, Sunshine,” Karen teased lightly. “Or I may take a bite out of you too.”

 

Sara obeyed with a click of her teeth, and it was difficult to tell if she was relieved or disappointed.

 

++ Dace ++

 

“So you’re here to catch this guy,” Jane drawled out thoughtfully, her expression hidden behind dark sunglasses and steepled fingers. We’d agreed to a group lunch in an upscale bistro just off Lake Michigan. 

 

“The idea to force Sylvia’s hand into an apology was my idea,” I sighed. “But she made the choice to actually call.”

 

“Well if isn’t like you can’t manipulate the Red Queen.”

 

I bristled in defense of my former Mistress for a moment before catching the teasing note in Jane’s voice. “Brat,” I complained half-heartedly and she laughed. There was something about Jane that had always stood out to me, something she shared with Mel. “Hey, do you believe that we can be more than just plain human?”

 

The question from left-field caught Jane off guard and wariness flashed in her eyes. “More than human? What do you mean?”

 

“Call me nuts, but I’ve always sensed something deeper in you and Mel. Like you’ve been around impossibly long. That tall bartender with the crazy Dungeons and Dragons bar that Fenris loves feels almost the same. Does this make any sense?”

 

“Sort of,” Jane hedged. She seemed uncomfortable, now picking at the pasta salad she’d been attacking minutes before. “I’ve… sensed something odd in you too.”

 

Maybe my gamble would pay off after all. Since Jo and the FBI women were at another table, I had decided to confide in my old pal. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. See, I’ve been… haunted, for lack of a better word, by this cougar inside my head as long as I can remember. My mother eventually whined at me enough to ignore the cat as a kid, but it was more like she was asleep, hibernating kind of, but not gone. The only time I ever sort of felt her was when I played, y’know? But she didn’t wake up fully until I knew I was coming here.”

 

“I’m following you so far, go on.”

 

Relieved that Jane was hearing me out, I continued to unload. “Only now, I’m not just seeing her, it’s like she holds some kind of influence over me, like we’re sharing control over my body. I’m starting to see and hear and smell stuff that’s impossible to do. So, I’m thinkin’ I’m goin’ nuts, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“But…” this was the hard part to say, my smart human brain raging against what it considered impossible. “But what if there’s some truth to it? If I just saw the cougar, I’d be willing to think I was just going nuts. But the senses increasing? And this prey drive? And the need to protect becoming obsessive? This stuff’s got me confused.”

 

++ Jane ++

 

Poor Dace, she looked so lost and, indeed, confused. Perhaps honesty was the best policy after all. I knew Granddame Mel would understand. Gramma Jan would scowl and fuss, but understand that this friend needed me. So I reached deep inside and called up that ancient power within me. “So, Dace, my old pal,” I said with false casualness. “Do you believe in the absurd?”

 

Smiling weakly, Dace rested her chin on her hand. “I think my little tale there was a yes.”

 

“There was a couple, back in ancient Greece, and they can’t be separated, even by death or time. Me and Mel are the latest incarnation.”

 

There was a long pause before Dace smirked. “Sounds like a Xena rerun.”

 

I winced at the reference to that god-forsaken show. Damn that idiot, Joxer, and his equally idiotic family line. “Yeah, well, funny you should mention that…”

 

A strange look came over Dace’s face. “Wait a minute. Pappas… your last name is Pappas.”

 

“Yes. And Granddame Mel was none to happy about that ridiculous program slandering the truth of the matter. Yes, Janice and Mel found the Xena Scrolls, and yes that idiot Jack took them home to Jersey, and yes, that horrible TV show was based after my family history.” Before Dace could ask, I explained. “Gramma Jan wisely decided that we were better off letting the truth hide behind the fiction.” There was a dumbfounded silence. It was funny to see the normally witty and gregarious Dace at a complete loss for words. “There’s more stories than what the Bard wrote down, some of which involve the bartender in New York, some of which involve a species from outer space. Yes, seriously. And some of which involved a special niche of humanity that fits your story.” Now I had her attention. “It was a stronger phenomenon in the Americas, but I’m betting it was prevalent all over the world. When our ancestors were more closely tied to nature, before agriculture and industrialization and living in cities, they had an uncanny rapport with the land and animals and seasons. With many hundreds of generations of selective breeding and ‘magic’, if you will, strains of specialized tribal protectors started popping up. There was this anthropology student in Cascade, Washington that published a paper on the phenomenon before he unexpectedly rescinded it.” Now I met Dace’s staring eyes, not surprised to see gold dancing amid the blue. “He dubbed them Sentinels, and you’re definitely not alone.”

 

**To Be Continued...**


	13. Follow the Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine and Sara’s arrival in Chicago sets a whole new sub-plot into motion. Dace will never be the same…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, sorta by default. I love writing about controversial subjects…
> 
> Pairings: None, but some hints!

++ Catherine ++

 

O’Hare had been huge from the air and was worse on the ground. Here we were, in the biggest damn airport in America, in the middle of the day, which was the middle of the night to graveyard shift like me, to help with a dangerous undercover case neither of us was prepared for, with complete strangers keeping us in hand. What on earth had I been thinking when I volunteered for this? A glance at Sara reminded me. Poor thing looked positively freaked out.

 

“My Heart!” A thundering voice bellowed jovially across the terminal and Sara and I both jumped reflexively. Us and the entire staff moving around the private terminal. A good foot taller than I and built like an overgrown oak tree, the gray old biker strode over on surprisingly light feet to sweep the giggling Lady Heartsblood into a tender bearhug. “So good to see you, love.”

 

He was a Hell’s Angel Santa Claus in well-loved leather and denim that towered over the rest of mere humanity. The Lady gave him a quick peck as she was lowered back to the ground. “You are such a silly old gorilla,” she twittered in delight and smiled at the massively tall and hugely muscular black man standing behind Santa. “Tiny. Good to see that you are well.”

 

“Thank you, Lady Heartsblood,” he murmured in a rumbling voice like distant thunder with impeccable respect that matched his flawless monkey suit.

 

“Bane!” Santa boomed and the tall red-head smiled warmly and welcomed his hug. “You look wonderful, my dear.”

 

“Thank you, sir. It’s good to see you again.”

 

“And you have new cubs in the pack!” I winced as a hand the size of my skull planted itself heavily on my shoulder and halfway around my neck while Sara staggered under the other. 

 

“Gifts for you, my dear old gorilla,” Lady Heartsblood chuckled.

 

“For me?” he feigned delighted shock and took a good look at the two of us. Bane chuckled darkly and I flinched from her firm hand touching my back.

 

“I’ve been calling them Sweetness and Sunshine, sir.”

 

Silverback didn’t reply, but that same strange look came over his face, the one that both Bane and Lady Heartsblood had flashed me before covering it up. Only this man truly looked as though he’d seen a ghost. “Saints and sinners,” he breathed softly and pulled his hand away as though I’d burned him. “It’s... it’s like...”

 

“A ghost?” Heartsblood supplied helpfully, her tone gentle. I was growing annoyed with all of this mysterious behavior.

 

Shaking off his shock like a great, wooly dog, the man wrapped his enormous hand around my chin to turn me this way and that, like a prized piece of livestock. The touch was surprisingly gentle. “You bear the most uncanny resemblance to a very, very dear friend of mine. Absolutely uncanny.” He actually had tears in his eyes! “She is the only pleasant memory I have of Vietnam. Please forgive an old man for being so sentimental.” Then, abruptly, the man was all smiles again. “Such pretty little fawns you both are.” His smile turned to the Lady. “Really, my Heart, this is such a silly and decadent gift. Come along with me cubs, we’ve much to do and discuss.” He patted us fondly while his attention never wavered from the Lady. “Your car is waiting outside. I’ll take the cubs with me.” He announced and the Lady smiled.

 

“Of course dear, after all they are gifts, are they not?”

 

++ Sara ++

 

The enormous stranger laughed heartily and gave her a light kiss before stepping away. As Lady Heartsblood moved away, a well-dressed man melted from the crowd like a wraith. “Get these,” he told the man curtly and our bags were silently gathered up. The new fellow was impeccably dressed the same as the man the Lady had called Tiny and both of their manners were silent and flawless. I felt like a lumbering fool in contrast. “Cubs,” he demanded and we followed. The silent shadow of Tiny stepped up to get the rear door of an awaiting black limo.

 

“Sir,” he intoned in a soft voice like the rumble of distant thunder. These massive men made me hesitate and the first turned. All gray-white hair longer than my arms and great, sturdy bulk, he smiled and the frightening energy in his piercing blue gaze abruptly softened into relaxing warmth.

 

“Relax kittens, no one will hurt you. Some of what we’re all involved in has been recently passed on to me. We can get to know one another in the car.”

 

There was something oddly fatherly about him and I found myself trusting him. “C’mon Catherine,” I urged and climbed into the limo. It was oversized and luxuriously appointed and thankfully empty. There were glittering eyehooks set tastefully along every surface and the black leather seats creaked even under my small weight. The trunk thumped shut and the menservants climbed into the front seat. When the car started moving, we could barely feel it. “Wow. This is an sweet car.”

 

Our host dwarfed poor Catherine as he settled into the rearmost bench. Some hidden knowledge had informed me to stay the hell away from the boss’s seat and I was quite grateful as he sprawled comfortably back. There was an odd look on his face that spoke of amusement and quietly, carefully restrained danger. “I’ll have to remind myself that you are, indeed, not part of the Scene. A casual remark like that could get you roped to the nearest Saint Christopher’s cross to await whatever punishment the offended party deemed appropriate.”

 

He was deadly serious and I swallowed hard. “Sorry… sir.”

 

That earned a smile and he relaxed again. “My name is Silverback and I’ll be your host and your cover story while you’re in Chicago. I only just found out what’s been going on beneath my nose this past week, but I can assure you both that you are in very good hands We’ll need to do something with you two so that we don’t draw suspicion. So you will be my slaves to do with as I please.” His smile put us at ease. “I only play with boys, so relax. As far as anyone is concerned you two are strictly here for basic training. Especially you, Sweetness. Oh, don’t think I haven’t seen that stubborn spirit in your eyes. Be careful or you may find yourself strapped to a table and spanked until you cry for mercy.” Catherine’s eyebrows danced up her forehead, as Silverback became all business again. “Do either of you have any skills that I might find useful?”

 

“In a club?” Catherine asked and earned that sharp look as I had. “Sir,” she added quietly and he actually chuckled this time.

 

“Yes. I can throw my considerable weight around to integrate both of you as employees. After all, being the boss needs to have some perks.” Patting his belly, Silverback regarded us coolly. He was truly every inch a magnificent old gorilla, stately, feral and potentially dangerous. I fired Catherine a teasing and suggestive eyebrow that made her flush hotly.

 

“No,” she growled and I laughed. It felt good to relieve some of the tension and I smiled happily at this big man.

 

“My folks owned a bed and breakfast when I was a kid, so I picked up a lot of odd skills like bartending, but I have no idea how much I remember,” I supplied and our host nodded thoughtfully.

 

“If necessary, I can place you in one of the back bars to watch the crowd. It will be out of the way, but you should earn less attention and get fewer odd drink requests. And you?” Catherine winced under his level gaze and I laughed again, poking her playfully in the ribs.

 

“Afraid he’s gonna ask you to dance?” I needled as she smacked ineffectually at my tickling hands. “Catherine here used to dance in Vegas,” I chuckled at Silverback, who flashed a grin while Catherine spluttered in embarrassment.

 

“That was almost fifteen years ago,” she muttered self-consciously and squirmed. 

 

“And you still look faaaaaaaaabulos,” Silverback lisped in cliché queeny-man fashion that made us laugh. “The woman in charge of this case is named Dace. I’ll hand you over to her and the Amazons, because I have no use for you. No offense, girls, but you’re not really here for training. Dace knows this and knows how to keep you safe and who can do it. Stick close to her once I’ve introduced you. Will night hours faze either of you?”

 

“We work the night shift, sir,” Catherine supplied.

 

“Excellent. This case won’t disrupt your sleeping patterns, but it will be high stress. Just stick close to Dace, that’s the best advice I can give you. She’ll take you in hand soon enough and make your stay worthwhile.” The man got a misty, proud expression on his face, like a happy father. “That girl is good. Damn good. I hope that she returns to the Scene. The Red Queen did such a nice job on her.” He shook it off and focused back on us. “Anyway, back to business.” Abruptly, he leaned forward and swiped a finger across my bottom lip. Examining the streak of lipstick on his skin, he clucked disapprovingly. Then he did the same to Catherine. “Switch colors,” he instructed after a moment. “It suits your character in reverse.” We blinked at him for a moment and he sighed, “go on.” So we self-consciously went for the tubes of slick color and he stopped us again. “You’ll have to get used to touching one another and possibly others.” He picked up a phone receiver that blended perfectly with the upholstery. “Tiny, pull over somewhere quiet for a moment.” Then his attention returned to back to us. “You first, Sunshine,” Silverback chuckled and waved negligently. I didn’t understand and he sighed again. “Have you ever put lipstick on somebody else?”

 

“Ummm, no sir.”

 

“Then I get to teach you a new skill.”

 

The car slid to a smooth halt and Tiny’s disembodied voice floated through the cabin. “A quiet spot, sir.”

 

“Now Sunshine, here’s a trick towel to clean off the bronze.” A pristine hand towel appeared from nowhere and was handed to me. Uncomfortable, but obedient, Catherine allowed me to grasp her chin and gently pat the color from her mouth. “Good, you have a careful touch. You’re doing fine.” It was utterly strange to have the familiar blue eyes so close, and feel her soft skin against my hand. Pulling the cap off with my teeth, I twisted out the red shaft of color and Catherine obeyed my tug on her chin to open her mouth slightly. My embarrassment was forgotten as I concentrated on applying the creamy, dark red to her supple lips. There was something innocent yet erotic about the exchange. A huff of amusement as my hand slipped made her smile slightly.

 

“Sorry,” I chuckled. “I almost had it. Let me fix that.” A careful swipe of the towel and a few more dabs of color had her lips glistening invitingly. “He’s right, this color looks better on you.”

 

“Thank you,” Catherine whispered and I was fascinated to watch her mouth form the words. I understood now why Silverback had made us do this. I was paying far closer attention to her now, aware of how she moved and felt. Instant intimacy. Clearing my throat, I smiled and tried to break the tension for a moment. 

 

“Well, I’m all yours now.”

 

++ Silverback ++

 

They were an adorable pair of kittens, shy, wary and frisky by turns. I had decided to push them harder by forcing them interact because they had such odd chemistry. There was an easy familiarity that only went skin deep between them. They knew the aftermath of danger, but rarely had to face it on their own. To them, this was a titillating dance with that unfamiliar danger and I needed them to be more focused, more aware. Sara was opening up faster, but Catherine ran deeper. I would have pegged Sara as an introvert, but here she was, puckering up for her companion, hand on one of her knees. “Feeling flirtatious?” Catherine deadpanned and I chuckled along with Sara’s laughter. It was sweetly entertaining to watch them bond over the act of feminine primping. Sara continued to lightly stroke the inside of Catherine’s knee with her thumb while the smaller woman painted on the bronzy shade with mostly steady fingers.

 

If they stayed shy and flirtatious like this, they’d do fine.

 

At the club, Tiny pulled into the alley where my private entrance was located. I stepped out, pausing to survey my domain. The threat hung in the air like the faint pulse of life inside the Staff and Scroll. Damn this nameless maniac for the miasma of fear. It was almost a physical sensation and I shivered in the thick afternoon air. “Come on then,” I instructed as my companions exited the limo. Tiny gathered the women’s bags and followed us into the elevator. “Sweetness,” I suddenly spoke up and Catherine obediently raised her gaze. “You never did help me with a role for you.” She squirmed a little nervously and I couldn’t resist ruffling her shoulder length hair. “There must be something, shy one,” I coaxed and couldn’t resist teasing. “Or should I toss you up onstage and make you dance for your keep?” She looked equally titillated and horrified. 

 

The place was bustling only with staff this time of day, but the shift change would hit within the next hour. They were mostly Amazons and various other slaves and street kids that I’d happily given jobs to. It was a principle of mine to try and dole out the wealth where it was needed. So all manner of folk worked within my establishments, cleaning, stocking, whatever was necessary. And they earned wages and at least a small independence doing it. Far better than a handout and far more beneficial to both parties. “How are the two of you doing on sleep?” I mused, scratching my chin. They were better behaved this time and waited until I met their gazes before answering.

 

“A long nap on the plane, sir. We’ve run longer on less.”

 

“Excellent. Let me give you a quick tour and we’ll keep an eye out for your keeper.” El Corazon was my favorite place in this new building. I had gone to great lengths to design the room exactly the way I wanted it. Massive wooden furniture, almost all of it old and dark with age, deep grains on the wall, all salvaged from old buildings slated for destruction, and the crowning achievement, the bar. “Found it in a long-deserted warehouse in the backwoods of Dead Horse, Alaska,” I explained to my captive audience. “Isn’t she beautiful?” the back of the bar and the counter itself were made of massive old logs and boards, carved and fitted into a structure as big as a bus. Moving, repairing and installing the antique had cost me a fortune, but the end result was magnificent. Many of the beams were tortured driftwood, others carved into fantastic shapes inspired by the area in which this piece had originated. Heading at the rearmost corner of the big room, I glanced back made sure that my new pets followed me over there. “This is the back bar. Beer, wine and a simple mixed drink list. We’ll set you up here for the night, Sunshine. And that just leaves you, Sweetness.”

 

Catherine was staring at the dance floor on the other end of the adjoining dance club. Temptation burned in her gaze, but she finally swallowed painfully hard and spoke up to rescue herself.

 

“I waitressed for years, sir.”

 

“Then we’ll leave you to Cheetah’s mercy. The head bartender and third in command of this entire place.” I explained as Tiny led the way into my private chambers on the top floor of the six-story building. My quarters were luxurious and sprawling, another perk of the new building, and I could look over both the El Corazon and the dark, scary leather club on the floor above. The arrangement let me judge the crowd, keep an eye on my investment and satisfy my inner voyeur all at once. There were a few adjoining rooms to my massive suite that the woman could be safely put up in. Anastasia and her two women were probably already napping in the luxury guest quarters. Something I’d been trying to remember since the airport finally resurfaced. “I’m getting senile,” I muttered and Catherine smiled cheekily until I tweaked her ear roughly. “Come here Sunshine.” As she walked over, I raised my head and my voice. “Tiny, bring me the tag kit.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

The girls looked almost nervous and I roughly ruffled both of their manes. “You need to relax pretty girls, or you’ll give yourself an ulcer before you even meet Dace.” Tiny handed me a small box and I patted him affectionately on the cheek. How I adored the big man. “This is how I mark my stable,” I explained. “It will protect you until the bearcub takes you in hand. You first Sweetness.” Catherine blanched when I brought out a pair of needle nose pliers. I laughed and laughed. “It’s only to put in an earring.”

 

“With those? You can’t be serious.” She scoffed incredulously. Without even thinking about it, my hand was wrapped around the back of Catherine’s neck to squeeze until she gasped.

 

“Behave,” I growled. “Or go home. Your call.”

 

Now that was an ultimatum neither had expected. We all knew that the two of them were here to help catch this killer, but if Catherine was going to fuck around, I couldn’t help them. Only now was she truly beginning to realize that this was serious.

 

After a few seconds of internal debate, the blonde woman relaxed in my grip and dropped her eyes.

 

“We will not be having this conversation again. You will be on a plane to Las Vegas and I assure you that any potential reputation on the Scene will be shot to hell. Understood?”

 

“Yes sir,” Catherine murmured softly and I nodded sharply, my anger dissipated with her submission.

 

I removed a small body piercing ring from the tag kit and tilted her head to a workable angle. With a few practiced moves, her faux-gold earring was gone, the 20-gauge surgical steel threaded through the hole, both ID tags added and the ball filled the gap. “There,” I dismissed Catherine with that short comment and crooked a finger at the wide-eyed Sara. “Come here Sunshine. You’re next.”

 

Not a peep from the brunette, just a few strides to stand before me with demurely lowered eyes. Good, she had potential. I remembered something suddenly and dug into the bottom of the tag kit. “Years ago,” I explained with forced nonchalance. “I had a favored boy that I loved dearly. AIDS took him and I was devastated. I would be honored to have you wear this. You remind me powerfully of him.”

 

Now Sara met my eyes and I could see the startled pleasure in her gaze. “Me sir?”

 

“Yes Sunshine, you. I have a good feeling that you are going to do me and yourself quite proudly. Perhaps this visit to Chicago can be more than just business. There is much to be learned in the shadows.”

 

It was a thick, chunky silver collar that was as tightly woven as a snake’s scales. A few twists of the pliers had both my tag and the Lady’s in the loop of silvered steel on its length and I fastened it around her neck.

 

It was a perfect fit.

 

++ Catherine ++

 

Silverback’s private rooms were like something out of a post-modern fantasy. While the man himself might be partial to faded jeans and his POW-MIA leather biker’s vest, his décor was superb. Even the guest room where our luggage was waiting was on par with a five star hotel. “How you doing?” I asked Sara quietly after the door clicked shut on Silverback’s retreating frame.

 

“Okay, I guess. He seems really nice.”

 

I only hummed in a non-committal way, feeling that trapped wild-animal energy flush through me again. It was peculiar, as though something were struggling to free itself from the inside out. Not in a bad way, just… intense, for lack of a better word. There was something close, something tantalizingly close that I needed to find, to experience, to dive into and drown in. That was a little scary, this overpowering need of something completely unknown.

 

Ah well, nothing to be done for that unknown need right this second!

 

The bathroom was a fairly spacious affair and I immediately dove for my toiletries and clean clothes. “Nothing a hot shower can’t fix, right Sara?” The woman only grinned as I bounced into the bathroom to indulge.

 

Hours and hours and hours later, I was nostalgic about that brief relaxation. Silverback had returned for us, laughing that we were surprised at how early his staff was preparing for the night life. Oops, neither Sara nor I remembered that we had hopped two time zones. Then a weary woman with curly honey hair took us in hand, and within minutes I had a tray in hand while Sara was ensconced in the little back bar. I had never gone the cocktail waitress route and was quite glad for it. This was worse than waitressing in a restaurant! There had been a few gropes that had turned into horror when the tags on my right ear were revealed. It didn’t stop the covert looks, but those were easily ignored. After a very long four hours, Cheetah kindly shooed me off for a lunch break, telling me to collect ‘Sunshine’ and take her with me. 

 

“Hi,” I greeted Sara warmly and she jumped, making me chuckle. I kept my merriment quiet, not wanting to insult or embarrass our host. “Better switch to decaff.”

 

Thankfully, the music more background noise at this distance from the nearby club. “Hey, I wonder if that’s our contact, talking with Silverback over there.” Sara had leaned over the bar to nuzzle the words into my ear, making me flush and jump. “Now who’s jumpy,” she chuckled and leaned away. I had only seen a flash of gold hair on a tall frame vanishing into the crowd when I had looked over to Silverback. Sara’s mouth had distracted me badly enough that I had no idea who I was looking for in the crowd now. So I turned my back to the room to lean closer to my partner.

 

“I lost her, can you point her out?” I asked, distracted by that strange energy once more washing over me, body and soul. Something about the gaze that had trailed over me from the stranger that had caught Sara’s eye. It felt like a homecoming, a successful hunt, the climax of a complicated piece of music. I didn’t understand. Sara’s mouth opened to reply and then dropped open in sync with her eyes growing wide. Even as my reactions shrilled a warning, it was too late.

 

Growing up with brothers, I had been used to a certain amount of rough treatment, but that was a lifetime ago. It was an abrupt, hard grip that sent startled pain across my scalp and down my spine. My captor yanked me back, a firm hand on my belt buckle the only thing that kept me from sprawling. Shadowed blue eyes blazed into mine from inches away, a halo of pale hair glowed in the club lights. 

 

Something shattered loose deep within my soul. A high-pitched howl split my skull and I gasped with the intensity of it. The stranger’s eyes glowed gold in the light, piercing me to my very core. Neither of us moved for endless moments, the chaos around us very, very far away.

 

She felt it too, that much I knew with absolute surety. Like smoke, our energies collided and mixed, the symphony changing tempo as we flowed together

 

When the near-pain of the grip in my hair registered along with the club noise, it felt vulgar in the warm, wild space between us. Oh, I really, really hoped that this was the famous Dace. Warm breath feathered over my face as I stared in utter shock at the woman who held my entire body in her hands. “Well hello,” she drawled and smiled at me as though contemplating a particularly delectable dessert. I felt as though I had touched a live wire, the shock of connection throbbing through me from this beautiful stranger.

 

It was both thrilling and terrifying. 

 

++ Dace ++

 

I hated waiting.

 

It was the one thing that absolutely sucked about being a cop. I wasn’t good at it and chaffed unbearably when I was forced to sit patiently and just wait. Jo was seated on the floor between my knees she where she could stroke my lower legs and I could run my fingers through her luxurious hair. We’d been lounging here for what felt like days, but I bet it had barely been a couple hours. I could have hung out with Jane and Fenris and the others, but both Jo and I were unnerved by how quickly events were happening around us.

 

The lingering sense of close danger and close salvation was making me jumpy…

 

Someone meant me harm, hunted me like an animal, deep within the darkest shadows. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that this fact was truth. The cat knew it, she bristled and snorted, sniffed at the corners of my mind, every sense in my possession growing, expanding…

 

Just as close was a salvation, a controlled outlet for this animal growing inside me until I could nearly feel the fur on and under my skin. Scents flowed over me like flood waters rising around my knees, threatening to pull me under. Color and texture registered in my gold eyes, the chaos overwhelming. My own saliva, and the lingering taste of the beer I’d been drinking since I was fifteen and Jo’s kiss lingered behind my teeth with an intensity I’d never experienced. Every sound was distinct, yet bled together into a deafening cacophony. The cloth against my flesh was as harsh as concrete and soft as feathers, my muscles danced beneath my skin as though having a mind of their own.

 

I felt Jo flinch against my legs before she ever moved, felt Gramp’s familiar presence while he was still part of the crowd. Everything was moving in slow motion, his words barely holding meaning as the flood of sensation increased, drawing me around.

 

I spoke the human words the man needed to hear, but I was already moving away, even as my body cried out to pursue what called to me so strongly.

 

It was close, so aggravatingly close, my fear and salvation.

 

The cat was growling and yowling now, fur fluffed out with emotions, white teeth flashing in the club lights, spittle flying.

 

Gifts from the Lady Heartsblood his voice said…

 

A big hand gestured to the back corner, my hyper-active vision stripped away all of the movement between us, zeroed in like a telescope. Sound faded, her scent washed over me, smashing away all others in her path. Not the dark woman I dimly recognized, my human mind far, far away…

 

The cat screamed urgently; a hungry, needy sound. How my European ancestors feared that sound, shaking in terror as the great gold cats shrieked in the darkness. The she-cats in heat, calling urgently for a mate.

 

I was riveted. 

 

Half-turning, her eyes flashed summer blue in the dim lights, bringing out the honey and red highlights in her mane. Deliciously curvy and lean with gorgeous, chiseled girl muscles, warm Irish features and an expressive mouth, she was extraordinary. 

 

Everything around me faded as I felt myself pulled in as though a magnetic force was acting upon me.

 

The tawny strength inside me uncoiled… threw herself against the prison of my mind… gaped great white teeth and focused flaming amber eyes to the prey.

 

Wait… not prey.

 

The crowd was no obstacle to the cat, we flowed like river water to the magnetic creature who called us. In an instant, she was in my hands, I spoke human words that I could not recognize. Close up, her gaze was deeper than the noon sky, and just as endless

 

Not prey…

 

Mate.

 

I heard the stuttering call of Coyote inside my soul, saw the brindle beast sharp and sly in her beautiful face. Trickster and teacher, I had been looking for her all my life and didn’t even know it. Again, she called to me, high-pitched and needy as I leaned in to taste her mouth.

 

I was home.

 

**To Be Continued...**


	14. Bullseye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cat and the coyote bond, Dace gets to know her new girls and Snake-Eyes get personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Dace/Catherine.

++ Sara ++

 

I’d had no idea what I was really getting myself into when I had volunteered to help the FBI. It was a relief that my body still remembered the rote of being a bartender so that I could watch the crowd. That’s why I had seen the tall figure with our host. The body language had tipped me off that this was one of his favorites, and I had to assume it was Dace. There was something oddly familiar about her, even if I couldn’t get a good look because of the erratic lighting. Then Catherine had distracted me and the tall leather angel had melted out of the crowd to make her presence known by grabbing my partner. 

 

Clinging to the heavy leather jacket, Catherine stared up at her captor and I wished that I could see her more clearly. The blonde purred hello while I tried to figure out if I should do something, anything. When Catherine tried to respond, the big leatherwoman ducked down and nipped her lower lip hard enough to make Catherine twitch in surprise. I was shocked by the eroticism of the moment. She murmured something to Catherine that I couldn’t make out in the background noise before flashing me a pointed look that turned startled. 

 

Sure enough, it was her. My memory kicked into gear and supplied me with a flood of images. Crime scenes in San Francisco with the intimidating blonde Amazon and her elderly partner looming over me, making me nervous. CD Bogart… what a small, small world. CD… Dace smiled in mutual understanding and made a mental note before returning her attention to Catherine. Head arched back, hands clenched into the leather jacket, all her weight dangling from the powerful grip on her belt, my partner looked good in this big woman’s grasp. Since I had wisely refrained from adding my opinion to the burgeoning scene, Dace ducked down to kiss Catherine. It was a warm, loving, get-to-know-you kiss that obviously caught the smaller blonde completely off guard. The mesh of their mouths, Dace’s pale lips and Catherine’s painted familiar red, made my heart rate accelerate as effectively as the shock. 

 

Then the presence of a raven-haired sidekick made herself known, baring her teeth in something that was as much territorial display as smile and I nearly swallowed my own tongue. Good God Almighty, Jinny Exstead too? Dace let go of Catherine’s hair, sliding the black kidskin to the nape of her neck and massaging the muscles there.

 

Catherine squealed in shock as she was tossed negligently over a strong shoulder before Dace reached out to fondle the two tags clearly framed by my collarbones. “Come with me,” she growled and gestured for me to precede her to wherever we were being herded to.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Too stunned to clearly contemplate what was going on, I let the shock of a familiar face carry away the overwhelming presence of the beast inside me. She was as out of context as the insane reaction to the stranger I had managed to tear myself away from and toss over my shoulder. The fiery little blonde Coyote was squirming and sputtering, so I wrapped one arm around her neck and used the other to smack her solidly across that fine ass. Her squeak of outrage made me salivate, wanting to take a bite out of her. What worried me is that I didn’t know if the urge was literal or figurative.

 

Then I reached out and grabbed the chunky silver collar of the woman who could only be Sara Sidle, the forensics hottie I remembered from San Francisco. As my human brain reasserted itself from the morass of the cat, the surroundings returning to something that was almost normal.

 

What the hell had just happened? This bizarre ability to get lost in my heightened senses had been freaky and distracting until now, but the blonde pressed across my shoulder had completely hypnotized me. All I could do was fall back on decades of training. First my idiot mother, then the rough streets of LA, the mean kids at school and around the corner, then Sylvia, then the Scene, then the Academy and life on the thin blue line. 

 

“Come with me,” I growled at Sara, alarmed at the rough, feral note in my voice, and distracted by the blonde’s alluring smell. Steph was curious, possibly even envious, but nonetheless waved us past the bar into a private area in the back where there were several playrooms. I unloaded my wriggling bundle gently onto the squeaky cot and pinned her with a hard look. “Stay.” The growl earned a stubborn glare, but she obeyed. I was forced to admit that I was salivating to knuckle under that fierce pride and explore the burn of illicit thrill in her eyes, but forced myself to turn away and regroup my sanity.

 

Sara was staring at Jo, who eyed her curiously back, and the hilarity of the situation suddenly made me chuckle heartily. Poor Sara thought that my partner was Jinny! I happily took advantage of the distraction from the other woman. Grasping Sara’s chin, I turned her head this way and that in order to get a good look at the familiar features. For long moments, she only blinked owlishly as I stroked her chin and cheeks with the buttery soft kidskin gloves I knew from experience would melt almost any resistance. When she finally made a small sound of surrender and her eyes fluttered, I abruptly grabbed her jaw in a strong grip. It succeeded in focusing her entire attention on me. “It’s been awhile, pretty girl. What do I call you?”

 

“Ummm… Silverback called me Sunshine… ma’am,” she hedged sheepishly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and heat. “Is it really you?”

 

“Yeah. I was shocked myself. It’s okay,” I soothed and shifted my grip again to massage her jaw and neck. “New to this, huh?”

 

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed softly and leaned into the caress. “The Lady Heartsblood and Silverback didn’t have much time to break us in.”

 

“And here he says he isn’t into girls,” I teased and leaned in to nuzzle the dark hair. “How’d you get dragged into this?” I whispered oh-so-softly.

 

There was a long delay before Sara’s response was breathed in my ear. “Umm… I transferred to Las Vegas CSU two years ago. If your perp is the same guy I saw at a crime scene last September, I can visually ID him.”

 

“Your partner?”

 

“Senior co-worker. Silverback was calling her Sweetness.”

 

“That man is silly. Is there something you’d rather have me call you?”

 

She leaned against my shoulder trustingly and I massaged the back of her head. There had been a time, not that long ago it seemed, where I would have loved her to be eating out of my hand like this. Hormones growled like the cat in heat and I swallowed hard. When Sara did finally answer my question, her voice was as hesitant as it was soft. “I get to choose?”

 

“Sure, we’ll say a former mistress gave it to you.”

 

I could almost hear the wheels spinning in her head, and definitely heard the smile when she spoke. “Baskerville.”

 

It was brilliant, considering what she did for a living and I threw back my head to howl with laughter. Sara was smiling bemusedly, pleased with my reaction, and I kissed her warmly between the eyes. “Absolutely inspired creativity, I’m impressed. Your companion?”

 

Sara’s grin deepened. “How about Wildcat? It seems to fit.”

 

Again I laughed and tightened my grip on her to draw her in closer. “Good call. Now relax,” I encouraged gently and dug harder into her neck muscles. “My partner is Junkie. She’s not really Exstead, just a damn good doppelganger. Call me Dace, or in public, Leonacouer. I’ll explain everything later, just let your feral side go and pay attention to your surroundings. I won’t let anyone hurt you or the Wildcat here, but you have to trust me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” she whispered and searched my eyes when I leaned away. Once I was assured that she was utterly in my thrall, I flashed a grin at Jo and she visibly relaxed. 

 

Not bothering to pay close attention to my partner’s reactions to this situation, I stomped back over to the bed where the fierce blonde lay waiting. She kept wary blue eyes pinned to me as I paused by the bed and raked my eyes over the tense and defensive lines of her strong, slender body. Again that primitive need spiraled up my spine, sharp and electric. Nostrils flared, I drew air in deep across the membranes in my nose and throat, actually able to clearly smell her in the thick air of the club. Her breath rasped in and out with that faint hitch that signaled an ex-smoker. Something in the curves of her fine body, in her smell, in the way she held herself told me that she was a mother. This woman had a cub.

 

Something in me shifted.

 

Cubs meant new life and a future. Cubs were to be protected and nurtured. They were the lifeblood of the tribe, the pack.

 

With a snap, I pulled out of the daze I’d been lulled into and the sounds and smells of the club poured back over me in a comfortable wave. Again? Could Jane be right? Could I be some kind of genetic throwback, attuned to senses and abilities hardly needed by a civilized human society? I didn’t understand what was going on inside me and sure as hell didn’t like it. So I growled in a threatening way, dimly wondering when the hell I had learned to make the noise.

 

It was hard to tell if the evil grin that spread across my face scared or thrilled my sly Coyote. But she certainly flinched and then froze when I straddled the narrow cot and settled my weight across her hipbones. “So,” I began conversationally and boldly ran both hands over her flat belly and abs. “We haven’t met, though I feel I’ve known you forever.”

 

Too stunned by my boldness to do anything more than grab my wrists and stare at me, Wildcat only started to squirm and sputter when I tugged the tight velvet shirt out of the painted on jeans. With these clothes, this woman had to have an exhibitionist streak the size of San Francisco Bay. Now it was up to me to see how deeply buried it was. Knowing I was going to have to keep this one on a short leash, I levered my body up and roughly manhandled Wildcat onto her stomach. As I slipped further into character and her alluring smell, it was easy to ignore her sputtered, “hey!”

 

“C’mere Basker,” I instructed as I slipped my leather-covered hands under Wildcat’s shirt to feel up her back. Nice musculature padded only just enough to keep her soft and delightfully curvy. Tentatively, Sara came to stand beside me. “What do you like about her?”

 

When the new kitty was going to add her two cents, I pressed down hard enough to push the wind out of her and force her silence. Holding Wildcat still with one hand and looping the other around Sara’s waist, I tugged the dark-haired woman in close.

 

“There must be something,” I coaxed.

 

“Actually,” Sara said slowly. “She drives me a little crazy. She’s smart and successful and I have no idea why she agreed to come with me and endure all of this.” Shaking off the introspection, she grinned weakly at me. “I’m generally not a people person. It was a pleasure to make you laugh, Dace ma’am.”

 

++ Catherine ++

 

Shaking off the visceral reactions this tall woman was causing, I tried to concentrate on what was going on around me. I felt like I’d been pulled down by and undertow and was at the mercy of hidden currents. It was really, really hard to shake my disorientation off and concentrate. 

 

Poor Sara sounded so insecure and it was such an unwarranted timidity. She was attractive, smart and damn good at what she did.

 

But what kind of person was she outside the job?

 

Only then did I realize that I had no idea. I could just see Dace’s soft, indulgent grin that coaxed Sara into bending down to be kissed. My heart raced as I twisted to watch the play of their mouths and Dace’s darkly gloved hand caressing Sara’s hip and ribs. The gentle caresses continued until Sara made a soft sound that was almost a moan. “Oh, I like you,” Dace purred as Sara straightened up and shook herself out. “We’ll continue that conversation later.”

 

Dace’s strong hands flipping me again onto my back drew my attention back to the unreal scene I’d been dragged into. Sharp blue eyes burned into mine, like she was going to consume me with a look alone. No stranger had ever made me respond this way. Never!

 

And why the hell did I keep hearing that sharp, undulating cry of a coyote?

 

It was so weird to be so gently roughed up by this woman of sharp dynamics. There was so much of this persona the tall cop wore that was tough and masculine, but there was no mistaking that this was a woman manhandling me. I was thrillingly confused. “Just relax,” she purred like a massive feline and ran those evil hands up my ribcage and between my suddenly too-sensitive breasts. Despite myself, I moaned softly as she leaned over, pressing her weight into those teasing hands.

 

Breathless from the situation, the teasing, the intense tone of her deep voice, that sexy kiss, and the heaviness on my torso, I moaned again. Dace remained poised above me, letting me breathe in the scent of her breath and stew in the need building inside me. Eyes slit, I watched her cool-hot gaze judge my responses and how far she could push me. I had never in all my years had such an intense and erotic encounter; particularly with a complete stranger I had yet to exchange a word of conversation with.

 

Then a wicked glint lightened her shadowed gaze and I felt the butterfly-soft pressure of her tongue flitting over my upper lip. Another swipe over my bottom lip and, despite the audience and the strange location and the mystery of this stranger, I felt my mouth tremble open, my body arching into her untamed tease. She breathed me, smelled me, stirred me into a frenzy from crown to toes. Good Lord… who was this woman?

 

My threatening hiss made Dace grin in delight and give both nipples a friendly tweak. A gasp left me open and vulnerable for the kiss that was flashover made flesh. For an endless moment, she was wet and open and probing, tongue behind my teeth to mark the territory and teeth clinking and locking with mine. It was a raw kiss, I could almost hear her growl, but I wasn’t threatened by the animalism of her. Rather, I was shocked by how much the low sound drew me to the wild soul I could feel just beneath her skin. I drank her in for those heartbeats where I was allowed these illicit intimacies. Then she levered away from me and climbed off the rickety cot.

 

And I was left with my guilty burn and the knowing gaze of my companions.

 

++ Sara ++

 

“I’ll collect you two before closing time,” CD said simply and walked out of the room with her silent partner in tow. Junkie definitely had something going on behind her flashing azure eyes. It looked a lot like jealousy and all I could do was smile weakly.

 

I’d shivered when CD… Dace had kissed me warmly, slipping me a brief flash of tongue before molesting my partner. After a few long seconds of recovery, I held out a hand to Catherine, but refused to meet her gaze. Her heavy breathing was distracting and I had no idea what to do now. We silently returned to our undercover jobs and tried to focus. The sheer level of weirdness I’d abruptly been thrust into had left me reeling. Watching Catherine writhe under Dace’s touch had done something strange to my hormones, had released a need that grumbled deep in my soul. I’d never fooled around with girls, no one had ever given me the chance, and my experimenting with boys had bored me at best. Now my nerves were buzzed, skin too tight, breath heavy in my lungs. Only then did I realize that I had never really felt arousal before, never experienced this pleasantly burning ache. Years of practice kept me on the job even as my mind was doing a million miles away. Multi-tasking was a beautiful skill. Looking back, I could see that perhaps I’d had a bit of a crush on Inspector Bogart. Yeah, me and half the people in the downtown San Francisco Police Division. 

 

(1-10-02)

 

“It’s closing time,” a now-familiar voice rumbled and I jerked my wandering attention back to look up into Silverback’s eyes. He appeared mildly annoyed.

 

“Sir?” I enquired meekly.

 

“Go attend to your new Mistress. Your attention isn’t here.”

 

“Yes sir. Sorry sir.”

 

Jeez, he was scary with that cold glower and I crept over to Dace like a smacked puppy. I was pointedly ignored as she looked over to the big man who had chastised me. Then she stood and walked away with an offhand, “stay.”

 

A long moment passed while I stood at the table and tried to eye the doppelganger Exstead without looking like I was eyeing her. Junkie had no such compulsions and stared openly at me, head cocked off to one side like a curious dog. 

 

++ Catherine ++

 

I felt her before I consciously even made note of where she was. Like standing too close to a transformer, every hair on my body stood on end in response to her presence. The coyote-sensation-spirit, whatever was suddenly plaguing me, flinched down into a submissive crouch, wanting to whine and lick at the muzzle of this superior hunter. “Finish what you’re doing,” she growled, her voice a low rumble. “Then come to me.”

 

It took a serious effort to get the empty bottles and glasses onto my tray, much less keep my hands steady enough to move them safely. As I walked back to the bar, she watched me with that lazy, predatory stare. At her negligently splayed knees, I stopped with my head down, and waited. I was so horny from this woman that my guts actually ached. It was humiliating, but intensely erotic. That conversation with Lady Heather all those months ago returned to me. She had told me about the urges that drove people to these kinds of emotional and sexual extremes. I had laughed.

 

I certainly wasn’t laughing anymore.

 

Suddenly her leather-covered hand snaked into my vision, again curling around my belt to draw me close. The other wrapped around my jaw, forcing my head up, her fingers massaging my skin. There was a stoic, fierce beauty to her; the startling eyes the color of deep ice and the blue heart of a flame. There was stress in her, trapped like agitated water beneath the ground, pulling the corners of her mouth and eyes into small character lines. Gold danced deep in those blue, blue pools, calling me like a woman dying in a desert, offering me haven in her spirit. “Please…” I whispered softly, knowing I was begging and honestly not caring. Dace bared her teeth as my eyes fluttered shut, cutting off the overwhelming power of our mingled gazes. With masterful precision, she flexed the muscles in her arm, the grip on my belt grinding the seam of my black jeans ever-so-subtly into my crotch.

 

I moaned, rolling my hips into her knuckles, kissing a leather-covered thumb as it brushed over my bottom lip. It was humiliating and exhilarating to know that I could probably reach that ultimate sexual peak with just this stimulation alone. Her thumb slipped between my lips and I automatically started suckling to feel the shape of her flesh beneath and the musky taste of the kidskin. The climax was roaring in my ears, my blood pounding in my veins, the club a distant memory.

 

“Ah, ah,” Dace chuckled softly, pulling away her thumb and stopping that subtle pressure against my clit. “Not until I say.”

 

Moaning wantonly, I leaned against her and felt how wet and swollen I was. This whole situation was entirely too surreal. One hand rubbed the small of my back and the other the curve of my skull, soothing the chaos she’d left inside me. 

 

++ Karen ++

 

I had known Dace since she was a gangly and angry teen, too young and vulnerable to be on her own. Her idiot of a mother had nearly ruined this fine and wild soul, and Sylvia had thankfully given her the chance to piece together something strong and whole from the tatters. I’d watched Candace Bogart grow from that awkward fifteen year old, into an accomplished Sub, to a brilliant Top, to a terrific cop. I had been as shocked as the rest of our kinky family when she’s gone and gotten married to that idiot, Paul, and taken his annoying mouthful of a last name. I’d even attended the wedding even as I knew it was so wrong. Hell, I was the only one that did. 

 

I still remembered Dace snarling defensively that she wanted to just be ‘normal’. The comment hurt, but I chose to drop it. Thank goodness she seemed to finally be coming to her senses and returning to the subversive life she was meant for. Watching her with the spunky blonde from Vegas was delightful, the chemistry between them enough to burn the club to the ground. There was something odd going on between them, but I’d figure it out in time. After all, who knew Dace better than her ‘big sister’?

 

The blue eyes lit up with delight when she finally noticed me lurking in the shadows not to far from Sara. Pressing Catherine into the seat she was vacating, Dace bounced over like a Labrador retriever and grabbed me in a bone-creaking hug. When the hell had she gotten so strong? It was a long hug, and I could feel the stress in every line of her body. “S’okay,” I rumbled gently. “I’m here now. You ready to call it a night?”

 

“Hafta wait for Zo,” she murmured in that child-like voice and my heart ached for her.

 

“Ah yes, the younger Goldston. She’s got to be done by now, so let’s collect your pets and get out of here.”

 

A long hug and a few quiet words to Steph had the Vegas CSIs in hand, while Dace and her shadow I didn’t know, vanished to find Zo. The two Las Vegas women looked like they were ready to fall over, they were so tired. They were sweaty, physically drained and freaked out by the atmosphere which had obviously gotten far under their skins. I really needed to get Dare into one of these clubs and see what I could coax out of her. My slow grin caught Sara’s attention and she stared in carnal fascination before abruptly dropping her eyes and flushing rosy. If she could admit that she wanted it, we could help her out.

 

A presence at my back made me turn and jump as I saw how close Tiny’s enormous bulk had come to my personal space. Goddess, the man was as bad as Teal’c… “Hi handsome.” My friendly tone and grin got me a famous Tiny hug, which was kindness, adoration and carefully controlled strength wrapped up in one big package. No one could feel bad about the world in this man’s embrace. “I’ve missed you.”

 

“Likewise, my dear. Silverback knows that the new cubs are going with you and Dace. Their luggage is beside the bar. I hope I can spend some time with you and Dace at some point during all of this.” How the hell he could pitch that astonishing voice so intimately was still a mystery to me, all these years later.

 

“Of course! We’ll make time, I swear.”

 

++ Snake-Eyes ++

 

I hadn’t understood the need at first. My weak part kept trying to make sense of something that he had no concept of. Pitiful creatures, these two-legs. There was no concept of their surrounding, they bashed clumsily through their environment like mortally wounded animals. Moving among them was pitifully easy. 

 

If only there weren’t so many of them…

 

The alluring smell trapping me here was growing stronger, a sweet scent that made my lips curl back and breathe deeply. This night something had changed, her smell shifting to a siren song that was irresistible. 

 

There was another one as well. Smaller, calmer, slyer; the counterpoint the raw power of the one that called to me. Another like me? Trapped in this two-legged frame, desperate to run free?

 

Even the weak part of me had to agree. He held too much power, but there was much in this world I didn’t understand and he needed to guide me.

 

Suddenly, there in the emptying rabbit warren, moved a predator. These two-legs fancied themselves my equal, domineering over others of their own kind. Pathetic. That was why I had chosen these select few as my prey of choice. But this one, this golden creature who moved with a sinuous grace that made me hunker down and growl…

 

A female.

 

All other distractions faded away.

 

A female… whose smell I knew. Deep in my wildest places, I knew her smell. This was no mere human, but another just like me! I could see the lines of her, the lean body, paws placed carefully amidst the human herd, tail weaving behind. Her head was low, weary, but the ears still alert and her movements sure and powerful. She was magnificent!

 

This is what I had been searching for.

 

And she would be mine!

 

In time, I would find her away from the ever-present masses of these filthy two-legs.

 

For now, I would wait.

 

The hunt had begun.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	15. Sit This Round Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen calls for a night of R&R and Zo happily provides the entertainment while Kerry has to play doctor and Dace spills her guts to her big sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R+. Dunno if I should give it the next step up, you be the judge!
> 
> Pairings: Zo/Kerry. Still building on Dace/Catherine.

++ Catherine ++

 

Sara abruptly coiling up like a threatened snake woke me from a sound sleep. Hissing in agony, she grabbed her lower leg and dug into the muscles there. Shaking off the cobwebs, I carefully touched her back. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Charlie-horse,” she grated between clenched teeth and I winced in sympathy. “God, I hate waking up like that.”

 

The other bodies in the enormous bed stirred from our movements and voices. Last night, Dace informed us that we were going home with her. Fascinated with the tall woman, and feeling the nebulous threat building like a thunderstorm on the horizon, I’d meekly tagged along with Sara in our wake. I’d been too tired this morning to really register that we four were all piled into the same bed. A fact that was obvious now.

 

Sara flopping down boneless into the bed beside me brought my attention back abruptly. Groaning in pain, she slowly relaxed beside me. “I haven’t done that kind of hard work since college,” she whispered and I grinned. My own back and legs were telling me the same tale.

 

She was trembling lightly from the shock of the pain and breathing a bit hard. “Hey, c’mere,” I soothed her, surprised when she willingly curled into me and draped her aching leg over mine. I could feel the muscles jumping against my skin. Maternal instincts rose up and I cuddled her slim frame close, tucking her dark head under my chin and stroking her hair. Our bodies fit together nicely and I vowed again to get to know her better. The body at my back shifted and made a small sound. A glimpse of inky hair told me it was Junkie with Dace just beyond.

 

Sara shifted uncomfortably, and I realized how arousing the press of her lean body was. Like a great hunting animal stretching in the sun, her firm lines shifted beneath her skin. Dace murmured softly, her tone distinctly amused and teasing, and Junkie moaned in response. 

 

Sara grew limp and heavy against me, the outraged muscles in her lower leg beginning to calm. As she relaxed, Junkie was waking up fully, her body stirring against my side. I rolled my head over to watch her nuzzle Dace through the curtain of black hair. What was I feeling? Even sleep hadn’t settled me down from meeting Dace and experiencing how she rattled my perceptions and expectations. Bright sunlight poured in from the skylight above, bathing them in warmth. Junkie finally shifted to straddle Dace, stealing frequent kisses. “Good morning,” she purred softly and I realized that I hadn’t heard her voice until now. 

 

“’Morning,” Dace hummed back, smoothing pale hands over the smaller woman’s legs and torso. “Sorry I couldn’t pay much attention to you last night.”

 

“You were distracted.”

 

“Jealous?”

 

Suddenly Junkie’s voice went from teasing to plaintive in a breath and a thick New York accent replaced it. “God Dace, I’m so fucking horny right now, I can’t play this verbal game.”

 

“Jo, lover,” Dace soothed and began tugging clothing loose. “You don’t have to beg, not here. Let me give it to you, nice and hard and slow.”

 

Junkie was moaning in earnest now, rocking her hips into Dace’s. “Good,” she growled. “You’re still wearing it.”

 

“Never got a chance to get it off.”

 

And I knew I was in for a hell of a show.

 

++ Sara ++

 

It was hell of a sight to wake up to from a nap... ‘specially when your mattress was panting like a bitch in heat. A half-naked Junkie was hunched over Dace, hips rocking urgently into the larger woman, who was stroking her breasts and belly lovingly. By the wet noises, I’d guess that the bulge in Dace’s pants was more than just for show. Junkie threw her head back, crying out sharply, spine arching with the sensations her lover was causing. “Good girl,” Dace cooed and ran a hand between Junkie’s legs to finish the job. It worked beautifully as she climaxed, jerking and straining around Dace’s pelvis.

 

I’d never watched a woman in the throes of ecstasy before.

 

I had to admit that I liked it. A lot. And it was obvious that Catherine did too, as she was practically hyperventilating beneath me. So I gave into the impulse to see how she’d react and rubbed my face sleepily into her breasts as though I were just waking up. Catherine stiffened; her breath hitching and her nipple was hard where it brushed my cheek. Junkie was coming down now, moaning and whimpering in concert to Dace’s soothing murmuring. Then a moan rumbled up from Catherine’s chest as though in sympathy and I abruptly propped myself on my elbows. “Well, good morning,” I grinned saucily and planted a quick kiss on my flushed and staring partner before she could even react. I couldn’t even hazard a guess where the audacity came from.

 

Junkie groaned this time and I looked over to see Dace roll onto her side, catching a glimpse of the soaked dildo jutting up from her crotch and the pink flash of Junkie’s naughty bits. “Relax Jo,” Dace rumbled softly and there were the sounds of kisses. “Go clean up and I’ll join you in a few. Go on.” Flushed and pantless, Junkie rolled off the bed and padded silently off to the bathroom, firing us a hot, fiercely proud and embarrassed glare. Dace also sat up with a groan of what was almost pain and I shifted to Catherine’s side so that she could breathe easier. The tall blonde stood and after a moment her pants tightened up around her hips and she faced us, all buttoned up neatly. The expression on her face was an odd and disturbing combination of weary and predatory. “I’m leaving now because I’m hornier than hell and you two are off limits,” she breathed in a soft, dangerous tone and stiffly walked out.

 

“Well,” I said softly and watched Catherine’s startled gaze jerk back to mine. “That was interesting. You okay?”

 

It took a moment for her to respond in a very small voice, “not really.”

 

“Relax Catherine,” I sighed, knowing that we were going to be awkward around one another for a very long time over this case. “If we hadn’t gotten turned on by that display, I’d worry about us both.”

 

It made me feel a little cold to move away and settle in next to her. Someone had kindly removed my shoes sometime last night, as I had been too damn exhausted to notice anything around me. Pleasant quiet settled around us, and I settled into a doze. After a few minutes, I couldn’t help but smile as Catherine rolled into me, seeking comfort. So I wrapped my arm around her and felt her snuggle into my side.

 

++ Zo ++

 

I knew the instant Dace stalked out of the hall that something was wrong. She moved like a wounded animal in a trap. Kerry and I traded loaded glances before I headed for the kitchen. Dace had slammed open a cabinet and was pouring a healthy glass of something amber and probably alcoholic. 

 

“You okay?” I asked quietly and braced myself for what was undoubtedly going to be an explosive reaction. For a moment there was nothing as she stared at the glass. Then she blurred into motion, shattering the glass into the sink with violent force and turning a ferocious glower on me.

 

“Sure, I’m just peachy,” she snarled. “Not only does the goddamn FBI send me someone I know, but I can’t do anything to them and yet I’m supposed to stay in character!? And don’t even get me started on how that little blonde is making me feel.” Pacing now, she really was every inch the trapped predator, gesturing wildly with both hands. “This is pushing every fucking button I have! Duty, hormones, paranoia, and my need to control everything and everybody. I can’t tell the goddamn difference between me and the cat anymore.” Abruptly, she stopped in her tracks and I froze despite myself. She was more than a little scary like this, so out of control. Her emotions were as real as smoke over my sensitive perceptions and just as dangerous. Staring blankly at the wall, I wasn’t certain she was going to break down or explode. “There’s someone, or something on my trail and I’m getting scared. I don’t know if I can keep this up for much longer.”

 

She looked like hell, tired and worn out and in desperate need of a shower. Raking her fingers through her hair made it stick out crazily. What was I supposed to say? I really liked this woman and I hated seeing her suffer. Taking my life in my hands, I stepped in close. “Dace,” I soothed softly, projecting calm and safety, and placed both hands on her arm. “This is all going to work out.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” she murmured disconsolately and messed up her poor hair again.

 

Everything she said was true. Thankfully, Karen finally decided to make an appearance in the doorway. “Hey punk,” she purred quietly. “C’mere.”

 

Dace grumbled something stubbornly. I think it might have been a petulant, “no.” She sounded for all the world like Emily and I swallowed a laugh. Karen sighed dramatically and walked over to pull Dace into a hug. For a long moment, the smaller woman remained stiff and unresponsive, arms still crossed tightly. But she gradually gave in and melted into Karen with a sob.

 

“We need to talk, sis. Alone and somewhere private.” A small nod was the only acknowledgement that Dace gave and Karen raised her gaze to mine. “Can you get Jane’s number from my phone and give her a call? We’re taking the night off. Jane’ll tell everyone else and they can contact me if they don’t like it.”

 

“But,” Dace started to protest and Karen tightened up until there was a wheeze for mercy.

 

“You’re taking the fucking night off, Dace. Deal with it. Chicago and the rest of the universe and that lunatic can wait for one damn night for you to recharge! Get to know your new kids, put your feet up, get in your jammies, just relax. Maybe Zo can provide us with one of her famous poker games?”

 

“You’re in luck, it’s Thursday, so we’re ready to go. I’ll start making confirmation calls as soon as I speak with Jane,” I promised fervently. “And you can borrow my truck if you’d like to go find a park or something and relax. I’ll even take care of getting the two new girls settled in.”

 

I was nearly to the door when Dace’s soft voice stopped me. “Zo?” Her smile was tender. “Thanks.”

 

“You’re very welcome, my friend.”

 

++ Catherine ++

 

Charming Zo Goldston had roused us, handed us our bags and shepherded us off to her own bathroom, since Junkie was still asleep. We’d listened to her and been careful not to disturb the small figure huddled in the bed we’d walked past. Neither of us had spoken and we giggled nervously in the bathroom. “You first,” I offered to Sara, who was limping painfully on the leg that had cramped so badly. She only hesitated a moment and climbed into the shower-tub. I was left to examine my ruined makeup and the weariness around my eyes. A pile of clothes was handed out from the behind the curtain and the water turned on. Barely able to make out Sara’s shape behind the plastic, I sank onto the toilet seat to wait.

 

What a crazy couple of days it had been.

 

This situation I had volunteered for was going to cause problems, I could see them coming. Even the fleeting memory of Dace’s demanding hands and mouth made my insides clench up with guilty pleasure. Of course, my brain helpfully played out the tender, erotic moments my bedmates had shared upon waking, and the press of Sara’s lean body against me while we had slept. The need to slip a couple fingers into the pulsing wet between my thighs was agony. With Sara only on the other of the curtain, there was no way. Now I would be distracted all damn night.

 

Wouldn’t Dace love that? The thought of the tall woman had something inside of me reaching out to feel where she was. Stress and fragile calm drew my wandering perception to her and a new calm fell over us both. Was this my role to her? Being a source of strength would make me feel like an equal to her, and I liked that. As sexy as Dace’s power was, I didn’t want to be subservient to that. The subtle push and pull between us smoothed out and I was grateful for both of our peace.

 

“Catherine?” Sara suddenly asked as the water faded to quiet and I was abruptly jerked out of whatever hypnosis I had been lost in. Damn, I was tired… “Can you give me a hand? I think I may have really hurt myself. Frankly I’m less concerned about my modesty than my leg.”

 

“Sure,” I answered with concern and grabbed a towel. There was a brief glance of Sara’s greyhound lines as I pulled the curtain aside and wrapped arms and terrycloth around her. “Step out carefully, I’m stronger than I look.”

 

Grunting in pain, Sara leaned heavily on me to hobble over to the toilet seat and sit. “I knew that,” she chuckled tightly. The skin on the back of her right calf was red and angry looking, the big muscle visibly bunched up beneath. 

 

“Certainly looks nasty,” I commiserated and patted her thigh sympathetically. “Let me get you a shirt and see if our keepers have any painkillers.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The bed was empty when I stepped out. There were voices outside in the hall and I hesitantly moved into the dimly sunny room at the end of the hall. I recognized my new companions from the night before as all eyes came to rest on me, and it took real effort to approach. If not for Sara’s pain, I probably would have crept fearfully back to the bathroom, far too afraid of how I felt about this stranger.

 

“Good evening, Wildcat,” Dace said quietly as I naturally zeroed in on her. Since I had no idea how the hell I was supposed to act around her, I decided that it was safest to stay in character as best I could in these casual surroundings. As I walked over, she smiled warmly at me and my heart skipped a beat. It was no mere smile, but an affectionate and sensual welcome that was nearly blinding in its intensity. I had played loose and fast with my heart far too often in my misguided youth and it was charmers like these that always persuaded me to do it. It had been a long time, a very long time since I had felt the thrill of electricity that raced up my spine, and never with this kind of intensity. I had to shake myself out to remember why I had come out here.

 

“Ummm, Sara Charlie-horsed herself badly. Are there any painkillers or muscle relaxants here?”

 

“Charlie-horse, huh?” A strangely familiar and yet utterly unknown voice said thoughtfully. “I got it, Dace.” Then the small red-headed woman who had been sitting on the couch stood and brushed past me. I dimly took notice of the cuffed crutch that supported an obviously weak leg.

 

“Okay,” my keeper said softly, and drew my gaze back to her. Then her arm moved, and for an insane moment I thought she might backhand me to the hardwood floor. Or maybe grab my belt again… “Inspector Candace DeLorenzo, SFPD.” Another gesture introduced her dark-haired shadow. “Detective Jo Polniaczek, NYPD.”

 

They had names? Shaking my head, I mentally slapped myself for spacing out so bad. Somehow, hearing Dace’s name and title calmed me. “Catherine Willows,” I offered woodenly and met Jo’s sharp gaze. “Las Vegas crime lab. My partner is Sara Sidle.”

 

“Why did they send a couple of CSIs?” Jo asked in a tone that was casual with an edge of distaste. Typical cop.

 

“Sara saw your perp at a scene a few months ago. She can verify the ID on him.”

 

“You’re in danger doing this,” Dace said quietly and I obediently returned my gaze to hers yet again. “Why did you come?”

 

“Sara asked me to. I wasn’t about to let her walk into this alone.”

 

A teasing glance over my shoulder made Jo clear her throat. “Deja-vu, huh, Junkie?” Dace laughed and climbed to her feet. We were both barefoot and she had to stand at nearly six-foot, making me feel small and overwhelmed. One hand was hooked around my neck to squeeze me lovingly. It was strong enough to hurt, yet tender enough to be coaxing. “I don’t understand what’s going on between us any more than you do,” she murmured softly for my ears alone. “Try and be patient with us both.” Those crystalline blue eyes burned into mine and her touch was abruptly withdrawn. It hurt to have that regard taken away… even if it wasn’t really mine to have. Was it? “So,” Dace said with studied nonchalance and shoved her hands in her pockets. “We have the night off, and there’s a regular poker game here. So get ready for some company.”

 

++ Kerry ++

 

Zo had crawled into bed and woken me with a familiar kiss. Since she woke me every time she came into my personal space, it was natural to snuggle. As I stepped back into our bedroom, I dimly remembered her saying something about meeting Maggie’s angelic twin even as I had dozed off again. The dark-haired woman on the edge of the bed looked up and we both froze in shock.

 

“My God,” I heard my voice murmur. Did she sound like Maggie too?

 

“Who are you?” she asked softly, gaze riveted on me. She did sound like Maggie! Elizabeth would swallow her own tongue in shock if she ever met this woman.

 

“You must have shocked Zo last night, damn. Oh, I’m Kerry Weaver,” I greeted her warmly and shook her hand. Now that the initial shock was wearing off, my practiced doctor alertness and girl-watching skills kicked in. She was too thin and her body language was far more formal than Maggie could ever be. This one didn’t get propositioned in bars much, I’d bet. At least not by anyone with any class… or sober.

 

“Sara Sidle, pleased to meet you.”

 

Yep, formal, I was right. “So, which leg?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Your Charlie-horse. Which leg?” Then I chuckled at her forbidding expression. “And here Zo usually brags about sleeping with a doctor.”

 

“Zo?”

 

“Your hostess,” I said like she was a bit slow.

 

“I didn’t really get any names last night,” Sara sounded bewildered and a bit annoyed so I gentled. She wasn’t sassing me; she was just on a completely different page.

 

“Ok, here’s the bullet. I’m Zo’s girlfriend, the sultry, dark one with the permanent grin. You’ll like her, everyone does.” I couldn’t help but smile at my amazing good fortune in finding the frisky woman. “By the look on your face, I’ll take it Dace introduced herself last night in typical fashion.” The suggestive drawl on the last few words had Sara blushing furiously. “Jo’s the raven sidekick, you’ll like her once she stops glaring jealously. And Karen’s the tall red-head. Now, I run the ER at a local hospital, so let me look at your leg.” The teasing faded as I leaned heavily against the bed and ran careful hands over her right calf to wince sympathetically at the agonizingly cramped muscles. “There’s no serious bruising, so the only good news is that the muscle didn’t tear. Let me see if I have any muscle relaxants in my kit.”

 

“But I have to work tonight.”

 

“Nope, you’re in luck. Zo and Karen finagled a day off, so you can relax.”

 

“That’s great.”

 

“Yep. I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

In the bathroom were the tricks of my trade and I rifled through the orange toolbox it was all neatly stored in. “Here we go. Not exactly what I was after, but it will do.” As I walked back into the bedroom, Sara eyed the package in my hand. “Don’t worry about this, it’ll take away all your troubles. I get pain and cramps in my leg all the time.”

 

“Why should I trust you?” Sara asked suspiciously as I tore open the packaging around the syringe and wielded the familiar little needle.

 

“Because you’re hurting and I became a doctor to take away pain. Nobody’s going to hurt you here, Sara.” She was almost convinced and I sat on the bed beside her. “The FBI isn’t going to leave you in the hands of someone who didn’t check out. Once you relax, we’ll see how that muscle does, okay?”

 

Sara eyed the needle a moment longer before nodding reluctantly. “Okay, you win.”

 

“Roll onto your side,” I instructed briskly and chuckled at her askance look. “Trust me, skinny girl, you’ll want to take this in the biggest available muscle. I’m only giving you half a dose for now. If it seems you need more, I’ll give you the rest.” A firm pinch on the butt earned me a half-hearted glare and the needle was in and out before she even noticed. “Now don’t plan on going anywhere.”

 

“Okay,” she yawned and suddenly looked at me oddly again. “Where’s Catherine?” I knew that look and tone. Kids that were scared and trying not to act like it were like this.

 

“I’ll get her,” I reassured her gently and went to the door. “Catherine! C’mere!”

 

++ Catherine ++

 

Something made me hesitate, looking to Dace for reassurance or permission… I had no idea. That untamed emotion flitted across her crystal eyes, making my heart race and my lungs constrict. I was in so much trouble…

 

A nod sent me scrambling for the voice I assumed was belonged to the red-head. The sight that greeted me was breathtaking in its innocent eroticism. Sara was sprawled out boneless, arms above her head with the t-shirt hiked up to show her belly button and the towel bunched around her hips. The doc was kneeling above her with the hurt leg cradled gently in both hands.

 

“Hey there,” she greeted me softly with a smile. “I’m Kerry Weaver, watch the toes,” Kerry teased as she turned her attention back to Sara, who giggled breathlessly. In the bent-legged position Sara was in, her toes were tucked up between Kerry’s legs. 

 

“Feel better?” I smiled as I stepped up to the bed. In the glow of the diffused morning light, I was struck speechless by the sensual tableau they made.

 

“She asked for you,” Kerry explained gently and resettled her grip on my partner, who hissed in half-hearted pain. “Sorry, I’m not used to doing this on such a comfy surface. At least not this particular position.” Sara giggled again and I sat down on the bed to enjoy her unguarded like this. “Painkillers and a muscle relaxant,” Kerry explained lightly. “If you’d play nurse for me and keep an eye on her mood, that’d be great. Ah, here we go. I’ll bet you’re feeling it now, huh Sara?” As my partner grew completely limp, my gaze flickered between her face and Kerry’s careful hands. Sensitive fingers prodded into the loosening knot of muscle and traced Sara’s knee. “There may be a strained ligament here on the inside,” Kerry explained, trailing a feather-soft touch over the inside of that knee. There was a twitch and whimper-giggle from her patient at the sensation. “Now, come on. You can’t possibly be feeling any pain. In fact, you should be asleep.” Sara hummed wordlessly and nuzzled into my hand where I was stroking her forehead. “No getting friendly, you need to sleep. We’re going to prop your leg up and then be in the next room, okay?” Another wordless hum was the only reply.

 

++ Zo ++

 

Since I could feel Catherine’s hormones rasping across my perceptions like a cat tongue, I bullied her off to my bathroom. A nod at the showerhead on a hose made her flush, but I knew my point had been taken. Water jets were a horny girl’s best friend. Checking that Sara was still out like a light, I went searching for Karen’s phone to call Tarzan. I could have called the club, but I figured that I should speak to the boss lady directly. After that errand, which included an invitation to the festivities, I dialed the brownstone where Kerry had once lived. When she had finally moved in here, not a day to soon for my needs, Elizabeth and Maggie had bought the place. Susan was happy in the sprawling basement apartment that had once belonged to John, even if she had to share the kitchen facilities. It was the later that picked up the line.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Frack-woman, what up?”

 

“Hey, Zoey.”

 

“Turns out the poker game is on tonight after all. Anyone got the night off? I have company that’s desperate for some entertainment.”

 

“Damn. No go for me, but the happy couple had plans you might be able to subvert. Call Maggie’s cell, because you know very well that Liz never has hers on her.”

 

“Damn Skippy! All right, you have a peaceful night.”

 

“Have fun with your guests.”

 

“Later.”

 

Maggie didn’t answer, but I left her a long, happy, ranting message in her voice mail. That done, I took food and booze inventory and plopped down on the computer. A visit to the Kroger’s website had groceries and supplies headed my way in a few hours.

 

The apartment felt smaller with Dace now out of it. There was far to much energy in her. It was like she was going to fly in a million directions at any given moment.

 

Except last night.

 

When the two new cops had entered the scene, something in Dace had shifted, had… focused for lack of a better word. There was more than just carnal interest between her and Catherine Willows.

 

As though conjured up by my thoughts, a much more relaxed Catherine stepped into the room. “Hey there.”

 

“Thanks for all of this hospitality.”

 

“My pleasure. And I’m hella better company than a hotel. Can I draft you into getting things set up for company?”

 

“Company?”

 

“Bunch of people are coming over to play poker and goof off tonight. You ready for that?”

 

Catherine looked torn about the whole idea.

 

++ Karen ++

 

“You’re right,” I agreed calmly. “It sounds insane.”

 

Dace groaned heavily and leaned over until she tuck her head between her knees and moan expressively. “I know that! I think I’m going nuts.”

 

She’d spent an hour describing what she called ‘the cat’. This half-physical and half-‘magical’ presence living behind her eyes and under her skin. “Punk,” I teased lightly and draped my arm over her back. “I said it sounded insane. I never said I didn’t believe you.”

 

Startled, Dace perked up and stared at me. “Seriously?”

 

“Seriously.” Hell, I traveled to other planets in a tunnel of light and had to worry about aliens in people’s skulls. Was my life any weirder? “If I could tell you about what I did for a living, you’d realize that your story isn’t as strange as you might think.”

 

That made her grin and I felt better that I’d found the right thing to say. Not that it was hard with Dace. She was such a little sister to me, only wanting my approval and love. While we watched the crowd outside the grungy little coffee house we’d found, I thought about what she had told me. I had to run it through several language filters in my head to try to get the meat of what she was saying. Once I’d peeled away the layers of stress and slang and cop-talk, I think I had a fairly solid idea of what she was experiencing.

 

“Your senses are strengthening?”

 

My question startled Dace from whatever she had been staring at so intently. The shift in her body language had been subtle, but obvious to me. The blue eyes looked strangely flat and yellow for a split second before she blinked back to the present. “Yeah,” she managed to answer my question after a moment to collect herself, her voice a little rough. “And these ‘space-outs’ are coming more often and stronger every time. It’s like… I get so caught up in one sense focusing on something that everything else fades away.” One hand gestured off in the direction she’d been staring in. “There was a woman over there, in that grocery store parking lot. She had a gold necklace on that intrigued me.”

 

Twisting, I followed her gesture and frowned in puzzlement. There was a dinky strip mall, bookstore, dry cleaners, a teriyaki place…. “Grocery store?”

 

“Down the alley.”

 

Alley? Looking again, I saw that there was, indeed, an alley between the teriyaki place and the bank next door. A narrow slice of daylight slashed the shadows there. Beyond, I could see the bustle of people in a parking lot, tiny letters spelling out something on the building beyond. Then what Dace had laid claim to struck me. “You spotted some woman’s jewelry from this distance?”

 

“Don’t even get me started on what I can smell now. Or hear for that matter. I think I could always do this stuff, but it was too crazy to be believed.”

 

“So you stopped believing,” I filled in, hurting from the pain in her expression. “And shut it down somehow.”

 

“Exactly. Everyone said I couldn’t do it, so I convinced myself that was true and became ‘normal’.” The harsh sarcasm on that last word was warranted, but I winced anyway. “I think marrying that idiot, Paul, was the last step in a lifetime of trying to fit in.” Dace’s voice was soft and far away. “I remember that the other kids shunned me when I was little. They knew I was different, dangerous. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to being a cop.” Her bittersweet expression squinched up into something that almost looked like thoughtful distaste.

 

“A protective urge?” I guessed and she blinked back to the present. “You’ve always had it. Sylvia always thought that you needed to be protected. I always thought it was just the opposite.”

 

“I needed to protect,” Dace mused, turning the idea over and over in her head. “Yeah, that works.” That beloved blinding smile was turned on me and I grinned happily back. “That totally works. It explains so much. You’re the best, Karen.”

 

“My pleasure.”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	16. Casino Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the fun and games begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, but barely.
> 
> Pairings: Zo/Kerry. Elizabeth/Maggie. Michael/Jo.

++ Maggie Doyle ++

 

Now, Zo Goldston didn’t beg a lot. At least, not to me. That was Kerry’s job. So when I got her wheedling, semi-desperate message on my voicemail, I merely gave Liz a long look and handed over the phone so that she could replay it for herself. 

 

“Well?” Sighing dramatically, Liz pouted at me and I barely restrained myself from molesting her right there in the doctor’s lounge. “Minx.” My growl only made her grin coquettishly.

 

“It sounds like fun, but you owe me a night out.”

 

“With pleasure!”

 

In the nine months since we’d coupled up, I had to admit that I was having the time of my life. We were a damn good match, which I freely admitted was still a shock. After a quick run to our favorite take-out place, we were climbing the familiar stairs to Zo and Kerry’s place. “I wonder why Zo was so adamant that you come,” Liz mused and I goosed her.

 

“Naw, that’s later,” I leered and Liz paused to kiss me senseless right there in the hall. A familiar and sorta half-expected voice broke up the moment.

 

“Oh, get a room,” Xavier mocked as he stepped out of his nearby apartment and scowled down the stairwell at us. We laughed at our co-worker and he grinned in that charming way of his.

 

“Hey, long time, no see,” I chuckled as he relieved Liz of some of her burden. 

 

“So, what’d you bring me?”

 

“Hey? Hands off the grub, buddy.”

 

“Ha! You just try and get it!”

 

That was how we charged into the crowd, X with the brown paper bag full of Thai food, squealing like a girl as I chased him, and Liz cracking up in our wake.

 

“Here comes the zoo!” Zo crowed and lunged at X as though to tackle him. That was when a tall, good-looking blonde woman stepped out of Zo and Kerry’s bedroom with a slender figure draped sleepily all over her and I skidded to a dead halt.

 

“Holy shit…”

 

++ Zo ++

 

Oh, this was too good. Dace’s timing couldn’t have been any better if I’d planned it. A breathless moment passed while Maggie stared in frozen shock at her doppelganger. Sara seemed mildly confused more than anything else, but then, she’d only just woken from a long, drug-induced nap. “Good grief,” Dace breathed. “Who the hell are you?” Her reaction was even funnier when she looked down at Sara as though to confirm what she was seeing.

 

That was my cue to hand off the mini-bar to Karen and bounce over. Maggie and Liz reeled as I threw my arms around their necks and squeezed mightily. “Wild, huh? I now have living proof that you are indeed, the Evil Twin Skippy.”

 

Despite her shock, Dace snorted with amusement, as did Liz. Catherine smiled weakly where she was hovering nearby, worry clouding her features. Maybe a little jealous that Dace was coddling Sara? Oh, yeah, definitely. Maggie flashed me a mocking dirty look, finally able to shake off the worst of her shock. “Pain in my ass. This is what you were so hyper on the phone about.”

 

“Yes. The resemblance is eerie, huh?”

 

“Extraordinary,” Liz breathed and I caught a mental whiff of a few of the thoughts that were running through her head. Most of them with a definite carnal bent. It shocked me that I hadn’t had the thought myself. But then again, I’d never been attracted to Maggie like that.

 

“Naughty,” I teased lightly, slapping Liz’s ass as she flushed rosy. Maggie looked over at the woman’s squeak and looked thoughtful. Poor Liz never had gotten used to how well I could read her and was always embarrassed by my teasing. Now Maggie was chuckling evilly, having caught the gist of what we were non-verbalizing and stepped closer to her double.

 

“Hey, good-lookin’. Maggie Doyle, pleased to meet you.”

 

Sara didn’t reply, only blinking owlishly. Dace chuckled and spoke up. “She’s still out of it from Kerry doping her up. This is Sara Sidle and I’m Dace DeLorenzo, the shadow here is Catherine Willows. Are you more of the doctor friends?”

 

“Yeah. Can I help?”

 

“Sure. I’ll plop down on the couch and you can take a look. I mean, how often does a person get to touch themselves in public?”

 

Groans and laughter echoed around the room, including Karen rolling her eyes. The afternoon off had done the tall women a world of good. Some kind of mental block had been chipped away and Dace seemed much more settled inside of her own skin.

 

Further introductions were passed around with much amusement from the audience as Maggie got to ply her trade with Liz ‘supervising’. Considering how little warning everyone had gotten, the turnout was damn good. Besides Dace and her growing entourage, there was the scary Dom from New York and her women sidekicks. Steph had been sent over with explicit instructions to decompress and have fun. I knew this because Jane had called me personally to ensure that I loosened up the bartender. So, I’d been plying the serious woman with charm and alcohol for nearly an hour now. Karen was a huge help, acting as secondary hostess when I was busy. Damn shame my baby couldn’t be here, but she was on nights starting today. X was here as the token male, we had plenty to get started and more might be dropping in during the night.

 

Life was good!

 

++ Dace ++

 

The resemblance was extraordinary, until I had a chance to get a good, long look at them together. This Maggie was like a rough ‘n’ tumble, red-neck version of Sara. She had a great bedside manner, chatting nonchalantly at Sara while she poked at the aggravated, strained muscle. Some shallow bruising had shown up, but Maggie assured the lot of us that it was no big deal. “You’re going to be sore as hell for a good week, but you’ll be okay. Stay off it tonight and take it easy for a few days, you’ll be good as new.”

 

“Thank you,” Sara smiled shyly, still clinging tightly to my neck and shoulders. I felt like something an octopus had caught for dinner. There was no escaping her grip. Catherine was hovering, and Jo was thankfully off in Michael’s care. Things were weird enough with my strange little pack, and even a short break from all the emotional undercurrents was a relief. Not that I wasn’t enjoying the tease of Sara’s breathing slow and steady against my neck. The deep potential of her servitude was like raw, fresh bait dangled out for one of my oldest hungers. How badly I wanted to shape this kind of potential to my own personal needs. I’d wanted it since before I could vote.

 

Sigh.

 

Oh, I was quite certain that Bane and Fenris thought this was all very cute and kinda sad. Here I was, surrounded by gorgeous women I couldn’t keep. Hell, in the case of the Vegas duo, I wasn’t supposed to touch at all. Someone at my elbow caught my attention and I looked up. It was Michael’s girl pup, all big blue eyes and bottle black hair with electric blue streaks shooting back from her temples. Pretty thing, but not really my type. I amused myself by ignoring her for the moment, interested in how she’d react. This spoiled pet needed to be the center of attention, and that smacked of pride to me. If there was one thing that irritated me more than anything on the Scene, it was an egotistical Bottom. It went against everything that a Submissive was supposed to stand for. 

 

Pai straddled that fine line between pride in her role, and superiority that she was better than anyone else on their knees. Sylvia had honed my innate arrogance to the point where I could move beyond it as easily as pain. It surprised me that Fenris would tolerate this kind of behavior from the girl. She was anxious, eager to get away from me and my cold silence towards her. Unless… that’s exactly why Fen had sent her over here.

 

Hmmm… Let’s see. Junkie had been sent here by Jinny, and by sheer coincidence she happened to be in my old buddy’s personal stable. By the intimacy of the way they sat close together and talked on one of the couches, I could guess that the feelings ran pretty deep. Like that elaborate tattoo with its white flames weren’t proof enough… So they missed each other and wanted some together time. That would make pretty little Pai-gow an offering to me then, since Jo was unavailable for the time being. If nothing else, perhaps I could use the girl as a diversion to my hunger.

 

Sara finally seemed to be perking up, so I gave her a hearty squeeze. “Hungry?” It was comical at how pathetic-dog eager she looked and how poorly she hid it. So I chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. “Sit with Sweetness here and I’ll go scare up something for you both.” I wiggled out from beneath her and stood, pausing when I felt a tug on a belt loop.

 

“Please, CD… sorry, I mean, Dace, ma’am. Please, I don’t eat meat,” Sara said in a quiet tone that was so little-girl, hesitantly needy that my cunt wetted up like an early morning lawn. Down girl…

 

“Okay, be back in a minute,” I managed to say calmly and stepped away, deliberately thumping my shoulder into Pai hard enough to make the girl step back. With careful deliberateness, I completely ignored both her and the collision, leaving her to stew in her own irritation. If I could make her mad, then I could discipline her severely.

 

And that might just make my night.

 

++ Jo ++

 

I was completely unnerved by Michael’s presence. The very familiarity of her was making me jumpy. Rather than the annoyance I expected, Michael seemed amused and melancholy. “I wish I had known that you would be going into, I could have prepared you.” I couldn’t say anything, but resentment twisted my gut. It was out of my control! It’s wasn’t like I could have told Jinny no. Before I could get any more upset, a gentle touch on my chin coaxed me to look over. The amber-chameleon eyes were soft and loving. “Not criticism, sweet thing, just… wishful thinking. I could have made the transition to a new Mistress easier. It’s very stressful, even with someone as trustworthy as Dace.”

 

The tears broke loose, even as I tried to fight it. I hated losing control! With a sigh, Michael grabbed my shirt in hard fists and hauled me into her body. It was a relief that she didn’t let me fight my way out of her embrace, restraining me with the gentle strength I adored in her. Since she had found a relatively secluded corner near the water fountain, I figured this was a private as I was gonna get.

 

Maybe the last time I had cried and confessed into a soft chest was my mother. I’d been a teenager, hating my life, hating my snotty prep school, hating being away from my family so much, hating being an outsider. The list went on and on, all of my teenage angst eating me alive. Sure, I’d gotten over most of it, but some of those earthquake faults in my psyche still rumbled on occasion. 

 

Michael knew most of them. From the first night she’d cornered me in a bar, on the prowl and headed for disaster, she’d pried every secret from my soul. And I’d just… let her. In time, I’d fallen madly for her, because she held my vulnerable spots so tenderly. Those weak places became strong because she shored me up like a seawall. The tide thrashed at me, but couldn’t wash away my foundation. And when I was overstressed, she would punish me in a way that never damaged those soft spots, leaving me calm inside my skin.

 

Sighing heavily, I roughly ground my face into Michael’s soft chest, letting the thin kidskin absorb the last of my tears. Humming in that peculiar way that she said turned her on, I turned the movement into a caress, tucking my nose into the ‘v’ of her shirt and exhaling like a hunting bear. It earned the throaty chuckle I wanted so bad that my mouth was watering. Even as my lips and teeth closed over the zipper tab, ready to get under that fragrant leather, I felt someone watching us.

 

I knew the weight of that sharp brown gaze, could see the tousled dark hair and the crooked right eyebrow, a legacy from our earliest beat days. A burglar with more testosterone than intelligence had tried to fight his way past us. It had taken so long to get Liv’s bleeding face fixed up, that she’d been left with a faint scar. There was something about Liv’s regard that both made me curious and annoyed. Squirming up even closer to Michael’s warm body, I pressed a long, open-mouthed kiss on her sternum, before tucking my head beneath her chin and listening to the steady throb of her heartbeat.

 

++ Karen ++

 

It wasn’t easy trying to keep an eye on what was going on in the cavernous room, but I had lots of practice in herding Emily, and more recently, the Goldston twins. Dace fed her new pets, for no matter the original reasons the two CSIs had gotten involved, they were bonding to Dace in ways none of them were ready to acknowledge quite yet. The one I couldn’t quite figure out was the quiet shadow that had followed Fenris in. 

 

Part of me wanted to go grab her and give Fen and her pup some privacy, but something held me back. She seemed to be at some kind of crossroads and I hated to mess with revelations. 

 

“Found it!” Zo crowed and Behbis screeched along with his mom’s voice. Steph was hauling the other end of a folding table which turned out to stand only a half-foot taller than the couches. “This way Sara can keep that bum leg propped up comfortably and still join in on the festivities. I knew this stupid thing would come in handy some day. Bought it for a showing of some odd shaped pieces I did a few months ago and held onto it for some reason. Look out Sara.”

 

I came over to shoo Steph away from helping set up the table. “And no tending bar, either,” I glared and she smiled sheepishly. “You’re taking it easy tonight. X has the drinks well in hand.”

 

“What’ll it be, ladies,” the man crowed like a circus barker. “Gin and tonic? Rum and coke? Sex on the Beach? How’s about a Screaming Orgasm?”

 

We all laughed at his antics, the table was set up, covered with a sheet, and the poker paraphernalia began to materialize seemingly from nowhere. The curly-haired woman with the clipped British accent that I vaguely remembered was Elizabeth, came over in response to my gesture and smile to shake my hand. “Karen Taylor, pleased to meet you.”

 

“Elizabeth Corday, likewise. Any friend of Zo’s and all that. Could you use a hand?”

 

“Yes, actually. Hey, Sara, we’re going to shift you so that no one trips over you, okay?” Nodding shyly, the dark woman looped her arms around my neck when I stooped over. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth’s another doctor, and she’s got that sore leg of yours.”

 

“Okay,” Sara whispered, clinging tight.

 

“I’ve got her,” Elizabeth confirmed to me.

 

“On the count of three, one, two, three.” It was effortless to pick up the almost painfully slender woman, she was amazingly light. “You’re too skinny, Sunshine,” I admonished fondly. “We’ve set up the other end of the couch for you with a padded chair for your leg.”

 

“You’re spoiling me,” she breathed, half teasing, half shy.

 

“Sweet thing,” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “This is not the style of pain I enjoy participating in.”

 

I could feel the blush against my neck.

 

++ Catherine ++

 

It was a relief to see these big, tough strangers tend to Sara so kindly. With absolute gentleness, Karen settled my partner onto a well-cushioned end of the other couch, and the curly-haired woman set the strained leg onto a chair covered in a folded goose-down comforter. X bounced over to refill her orange juice and provided a little dish of munchies. “Don’t eat those,” he admonished with a white grin. “That’s your currency.”

 

“Currency?”

 

“We play for junk food,” Zo explained as she flopped down to one of the couches and set her armload of goodies on the table. “Peanuts are a buck, m & m’s are five, Hershey’s Kisses are ten, and the Reese’s cups are twenty. If you start kicking our asses, the Peppermint Patties are fifty. At the end of the night, you keep what you win. It’s like grown-up Halloween.” 

 

I liked this bunch, they were good people. Dace returned to me, snuggling down into the couch, pressing against my arm and hip. I was hyper-aware of her, and the magnetism between us. It would be a shock if my junk-food currency would last very long. 

 

Surprisingly, I did fairly well. All my years of observation skills seemed to be paying off, despite the distraction beside me. There was much banter and horsing around at the table, despite the fact that a good chunk of us were strangers. Maggie and Zo sparred nearly as much as Karen, Michael and Dace, and it was quite amusing to witness. Not to mention the carnal curiosity in Elizabeth’s eyes as her gaze would periodically stray to Sara. Must be tremendously strange to see a doppelganger of your girlfriend. Titillating too. It was difficult to believe just how closely Sara and Maggie resembled each other. Thankfully, their body language was wildly different, even with Sara still effectively half asleep. A lifetime of overworking was taking its toll on her, triggered off by her injury and the relentless kindness of our new friends. 

 

The butches fawned over my partner, and it was cracking me up. Even Michael had refilled her juice a couple of times. When Sara had nearly drifted off for the umpteenth time, Dace responded beautifully to my loaded look. In a seemingly causal series of maneuvers, we took a group break for more food and alcohol, and when we returned, Sara was suddenly ensconced between the couch arm and Dace’s larger body. 

 

I was gratified when Sara immediately snuggled into the blonde’s shoulder. I was delighted when Dace grabbed me, tucking me securely into her other side, snuffling through my hair. The game had been fun, but I liked this much better. Her arm was solid and gentle around my torso, her breath hot and sweet against my scalp.

 

Could I leave her? The thought horrified me, but it was a legitimate question. My real life seemed a fever dream, only Lindsey’s pull on my soul giving me any grounding. I felt horrible that I hadn’t called her since arriving in Chicago. Sure, it had been less than two days since I’d left Las Vegas, but still…

 

“Would you like to call your kid?”

 

Startled, I twisted my head to meet Dace’s eyes, oh-so-close to mine. “How did you know I had a child?”

 

“Smelled her on you,” Dace shrugged nonchalantly, but her expressive eyes gave away her lingering stress at the bizarre changes happening around us. “I didn’t realize I’d figured out a daughter until right this minute.”

 

“She’ll be nine in December,” I supplied with uncharacteristic openness. “You remind me of her.”

 

It was an odd compliment, but Dace smiled warmly. Once again, I was struck by how much Dace did, indeed, remind me of Lindsey. It wasn’t the nearly identical coloring, it wasn’t the winning grin, it wasn’t anything that obvious. It was that… presence, for lack of a better word, just under her skin. There was more to Lindsey than met the eye. Only after meeting Dace was I realizing that instinctual knowledge was more than mother-ego.

 

Could Lindsey be like Dace? This cougar-woman that I was drawn to so powerfully? It would sure as hell explain a few things. She had always been unusually astute in her perceptions, but I had chalked it up to her being merely extraordinary. Lindsey had spent her entire life under fire from the rough relationship that her father and I shared. Eddie was a worthless pig I had been stupid enough to think I once loved. All her life Lindsey had strove to be a perfect kid, to please me and her father.

 

Perhaps she had squelched down the very same things that bound me so tightly to this enigmatic stranger.

 

++ Michael ++

 

After a pleasant quickie with Jo in the gigantic bathroom she’d gotten custody of from our hostess, I was in a far better mood. Particularly with the memories of how Jo had cried and cursed while I played her so well, growling obscene images into her ear. Particularly the one where I told her that, at some future date, she would replay what was happening to her with Dace. That made Jo break, coming all over my hand. There were many people that would not understand that I wasn’t jealous of Dace. Quite the contrary, I was looking forward to an opportunity to watch my old playmate work Jo over.

 

I knew who my sexy cop would come to when called. Her loyalty was as permanent as the tattoo I’d placed beneath her skin. 

 

Then I remembered something, glancing over at Dace. Sylvia had believed that the blonde would never leave her. The crimson diamond I knew hid just below the edge of Dace’s tank-top was proof of that. Would the same happen with Jo? Sensing my stare, Dace looked up and smiled warmly. Such a charmer…

 

Dace had just been a kid when Sylvia found her, barely fifteen years old and headed for destruction. In contrast, I’d been nearly nineteen before I entered the fold. KC refocused my newly-learned and dangerous military skills into something that suited the kinks I’d learned illicitly at the hands of her colonel friend in boot camp. First at the end of lash and rope, before she then allowed me to master them in turn. Hell of a recreation for a U.S. Marine. But, considering how many of my clients were in every uniform conceivable, not such a surprise.

 

Jo bounced over to the poker table, where Elizabeth had just won the pot to much groaning and cursing, and flopped down into Dace’s lap. Butterfly kisses earned the big cop’s characteristic throaty chuckle. That was my cute little Junkyard Dog. Poor Olivia looked so torn about how she felt about all of this. That woman needed a vacation, and more importantly, a healthy outlet for all of that intensity.

 

She had hardly taken her eyes off of charismatic Dace all night. That busy brain was chewing through all the stimuli, alert to every change around her. Goddess, but Liv was such a cop. Snickering to myself, I decided that I could wedge myself in between Maggie and Catherine. 

 

“Archangel Michael,” I offered to the sharp look the blonde gave me. “I don’t think we were ever formally introduced. I had to meet the conscious half of the package that fascinates the stringy ole’ pussy here.”

 

“Hardy har har,” Dace mocked me, but Catherine merely gave me an unreadable look, blue eyes dancing with distinctly perverse humor. Oh, I liked her already.

 

“Catherine. Only half?”

 

Half? Oh, right. Duh. “The pretty little fawn over there.”

 

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” Oh, she had a dangerous burr in her voice now. How I loved the challenge of a woman with brains, beauty and a sharp wit.

 

“She may be pretty,” I flattered. “But you are a full-bodied gorgeous.”

 

Catherine thought the compliment over for a moment, then smiled winningly. “Okay, I won’t sic the cat here on you.”

 

I laughed along with Dace and Jo. “Welcome to the family, Catherine.”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	17. Television Sports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang mocks the boob tube, before Dace finally takes a bite out of Pai, Liv overreacts and the night comes to an abrupt halt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, but barely.
> 
> Pairings: Zo/Kerry. Elizabeth/Maggie. Michael/Jo.
> 
> Personal Disclaimer: Many blessing upon the glorious Mosca for the apt moniker, “The Stupid Doctor Show.” It spawned off one of the funniest scenes in this story.
> 
> Spoilers: Does poking fun at a whole mass of TV shows count?

++ Olivia ++

 

(1-11-02)

 

I was as jumpy as a mouse at a cat convention. The more relaxed everyone else got, the more the pressure inside me tightened up. Maggie’s exasperated snort made me flinch.

 

“How can you watch that crap? Buncha romance novel rejects wearing a badge so that they can still play the ‘poor little woman’? Drives me nuts.” I hadn’t really been paying attention to her talking with Michael, and zeroed in on the word ‘badge’. Maggie must have seen my questioning expression. “It’s this horrible show on Lifetime, called ‘The Precinct’.” Her sarcasm and disgust were a palatable thing. “My entire monstrous Italian family is all cops, except my mom, a nurse, my cousin Joey who had the nerve to become a lawyer, of all things, and me, a doctor. Shows that play into untrue clichés just irritate the shit out of me.”

 

I still wasn’t sure what to say. Then Dace jumped in with, “it’s no worse than that Emergency Roo…” Instantly, all the locals were exaggeratedly shushing her, much to Dace’s amused consternation.

 

“Don’t mention the Stupid Doctor Show,” Zo yelped. “Kerry’ll hear you, and she’ll go off for an hour. She hates that show.” Since a bunch of them were nodding adamantly, I figured she was at least half-serious. 

 

“But she’s not even here,” Dace mocked lightly and Zo gave her a haughty look.

 

“Don’t care. Kerry would just know.”

 

There was much chuckling from the people that worked at the hospital.

 

“How many of us work in fields that the media distorts?” Michael asked thoughtfully and Karen snorted with blistering sarcasm.

 

“Or flat-out perverts.”

 

We all pretty much snickered over that one, and Maggie got back into the conversation. “There’s the dime a dozen cop shows, and that White House one you love so much, Zo.”

 

“Yeah, but that one’s actually good,” Zo defended heatedly.

 

“Speak for yourself.”

 

“Oh, you’re just pissy because that Secret Service Agent looks so much like you.”

 

Monica, the lanky FBI agent who had snuck in an hour or so ago, started in surprise and stared at Maggie. “Good grief, you do look like her.”

 

Zo cackled. “And you look like the prez’s eldest daughter.”

 

Startled again, Monica lobbed a peanut m & m at Zo, to much laughter. Why couldn’t I join in? There was much good humor and relaxation, but I just… felt apart from it. What was wrong with me?

 

++ Sara ++

 

Jerking awake, I pulled my aching cheek up from Dace’s shoulder and blinked blearily. Damn painkillers. A riotous wave of laughter had jarred me from a nap, and now washed over me again. “Have you seen that weird ‘Area 51’?” It took me a minute to place the voice, but I suddenly remembered our FBI contact, Monica Reyes.

 

“Sure,” the British woman chuckled. “It’s fun, if not a bit farfetched. I mean, really? Hasn’t the ‘alien conspiracy’ been done to death?” Peering around the slender bulk of Dace’s body, I saw Monica scowl prettily to more laughter. “Now you know how we doctors feel about that awful Show that Shall not be Named.”

 

My double kissed her soundly while the others cracked up. How I had dozed off in the noise was a mystery. Then a familiar grin flashed at me from Dace’s other side. “Hey Sara,” Catherine soothed and I grinned helplessly. “Can you imagine some idiot trying to make a prime-time show about what we do?”

 

“God, that’d be boring,” I agreed with her and was rewarded with another rush of happy sound. It felt good, the ease of this diverse group of women.

 

“There’s that ‘New Detectives’ on the Discovery Channel,” Michael tossed in and I sighed.

 

“That’s different. At least there, the cases are treated like documentaries or re-enactments. I just can’t see a high-profile show on something like… I dunno, CBS? I mean, seriously, how interesting can criminology be to America?”

 

“Touché,” Michael conceded the round to me and I felt warm and fuzzy from the compliment from the powerful woman. “Anyone ever watch that ‘JAG Unit’?”

 

“The hour-long recruiting commercial?” Karen teased lightly

 

“Yes, fly-boy, that one,” Michael sniffed heartily and humor rippled through the group again. “I have several Navy buddies who foam at the mouth over that one. It has only a slightly lesser effect on me, since I served with the JAG Corps.”

 

“That’s right,” Steph suddenly chimed in. “I keep forgetting that you’re a lawyer in addition to all of your other skills.”

 

“I have many skills,” Michael deadpanned and we all groaned at the Xena reference. There were other comments about the favorite campy show, but I was again distracted by the weight of pale eyes on me. The British woman… Liz, that was her name, was attractive, but her intensity intimidated me. And Maggie just freaked me out. Even the hair was identical, before I’d started having mine straightened. There were all kinds of illicit ideas dancing around behind Liz’s eyes…

 

++ Pai-Gow ++

 

This was the worst night of my life.

 

Well, the worst night of my new life anyway. My old life still woke me with screaming nightmares on occasion. And I was always paranoid of strangers, always aware of where people were in my personal space, always anxious when Leslie wasn’t nearby, always terrified when I wasn’t the center of Michael’s attention.

 

Between all those fears and sheer boredom, I was having a hard time not doing an anxious pee-pee dance. And, as much as I liked Junkie, I was insane with jealousy, I always had been. No one brought out Michael’s ‘daddy’ side the way she did. Handing me over to the blonde woman had only made me more jealous and more insecure. Being ignored was making me insane.

 

Michael had taken me from a life of exploitation where I teetered on the brink of prostitution or worse and taught me love and respect. From an attractive bit of underage fluff, to striking young predator, to much adored house pet. That was my life.

 

The mistake took only moments to make.

 

Lost in my thoughts, I never saw her move, but with the suddenness of a car accident, Dace was in my space, close enough to brush against me. Squeaking with alarm and shock, I flinched back a step, hands up defensively. Where the hell had she come from? A hard hand shot out like a striking snake, grabbing my jaw and grinding my cheeks into my teeth. Again, an alarmed squeak escaped me as she bodily hauled me close again.

 

There was something in this woman’s eyes, something that was thrilling and terrifying. Cowed by her feral power, I grew still beneath the raw energy in those eyes. A faint smirk curled her mouth, but her gaze never let up as she spoke conversationally. “Hey Fen, I don’t think your pussycat here is having a good time.”

 

Michael didn’t react for a moment, until I could feel her flat gaze come to rest on me. Even not able to see her clearly from the grip on my face, I could sense her disapproval. What had I done wrong? I didn’t understand!

 

++ Dace ++

 

The black cat was about ready to cry and I softened with a long-suffering sigh. “Pai, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just testing your boundaries. Relax, willya? You’re going to give yourself an ulcer.”

 

Reluctantly, Pai did relax marginally and I rewarded her with a faint smile and a rough-tender massage to the tendons at the back of her neck. There were several gazes intent on this little drama, including Michael’s brunette bodyguard that didn’t fit in. Coiling the lock of electric blue hair on Pai’s left temple negligently around my index finger, I tightened up the pull on her scalp until she started to wince. Since most of Zo’s friends had gone home for the night, I figured I could start notching up the intensity. My Vegas sweeties were asleep on the couch, Liz and Maggie seemed interested in us fringe women, and we players had no shock value. Still gripping that lock of hair like a leash, I sat back down on the couch, forcing Pai onto her knees by my feet.

 

“Stay,” I told her calmly and leaned back to eye her closely. “So, Fen,” I said conversationally and was amused at the carnal distraction in my old pal’s eyes.

 

“Yes?” Her tone was mildly annoyed that I had pulled her away from toying with Jo and I grinned ferally.

 

“You never told me how you came by this pretty little piece of fluff.”

 

“Who?” Fenris asked innocently. “Junkie?”

 

We cackled and Jo flushed, while the brunette bodyguard grew even more tense. Interesting…

 

“No, but I’ll bet that’s a fascinating story, too. Did this little black cat cost you a fortune?”

 

“What can I say,” Fenris drawled arrogantly. “I got a two for one deal.” Again we cackled. “Besides, it wasn’t about the money, Dace. It was the challenge of smuggling Pai and Boot out of Hong Kong and creating them a life in the States. You know how I am about challenges.”

 

“Oh, I remember quite clearly.”

 

Elizabeth’s voice startled me when she suddenly asked a question. “How do you two know each other?”

 

A questioning glance was traded between Fenris and I. This woman and her girlfriend were outside the Scene, curious or not. Then I noticed the perversely amused smirk on Zo’s face as she walked back in. That clinched it for me, and I nodded my permission to Fenris.

 

“Our dominatrix mentors are old friends,” Fenris explained bluntly and Elizabeth blinked. A snorting chuckle escaped me, Zo and Jo simultaneously. The later received a resounding smack on the hip from my knuckles, earning me a jump and squeak. I flashed Karen a grin in apology for not including her. “We’ve since branched out, as I’m certain you’ve guessed.”

 

Maggie looked a little embarrassed and very horny, as did Elizabeth. Bet they weren’t totally vanilla and all this was titillating as hell. There were days I loved my job…

 

++ Jo ++

 

Watching Liv’s expression was fascinating. It had been a long time since I’d had the pleasure, and Dace’s smack caught me off guard. Lost in Michael’s familiar presence and my curiosity about my old partner’s behavior, I was almost annoyed by the blow, as I hadn’t been expecting it. But that was part of my role, taking the unexpected attentions of my Mistress, or her proxy.

 

“Careful,” Zo deadpanned dryly, even as her eyes danced with mirth. “Or they’ll take a bite out of you both.” Dace and Michael laughed uproariously at the Elizabeth’s blush and Maggie’s look of slightly embarrassed and defensive interest. “Oh, don’t scowl, Frick. They’re naughty, and you knew it.”

 

Maggie seemed torn at how to respond, and she and Elizabeth traded a loaded look that made them giggle like little girls. Somehow, it set the whole gang off into gales of laughter. Only Liv, Pai and myself stayed quiet, and I could feel the smile tugging at my mouth from their merriment. It was so weird to see Michael unguarded. Hanging out with her old friend was bringing out facets of my Mistress I barely recognized.

 

I liked it.

 

Now, if only I could figure out what the hell was Liv’s problem. Her eyes were burning with something that looked like anger as she watched Dace distractedly rough up Pai’s hair. My little playmate was finally starting to relax under the attention. I knew how she felt, suddenly being under the control of this intense stranger, and we traded understanding looks.

 

Seeming to be bolstered by my understanding, Pai tentatively reached out to run soft fingertips over the aggressive lines of Dace’s leather boots. It took a moment for the blonde to notice, but when she did, her gaze turned heavy and predatory. Pai eyed her shyly, and flattened her hand to the heavy leather. She better be careful not to bait that big cat too much…

 

Wait…

 

Oh for fuck sake, how could I be so dense. Liv was tweaking because she was seeing all this as some kind of victimization. The woman never turned off, I swear.

 

++ Michael ++

 

Feeling Jo tense, I quickly clamped a hand down on the back of her neck, surprised when she fought me for a moment. “But…” she spluttered, before meeting my eye and abruptly subsiding.

 

“Let them work it out,” I said placidly, tightening up until she squeaked a wordless affirmative. Pai looked good at my buddy’s feet, running those teasing hands over the famous boots. I was resentful of the strangers in the room suddenly. Watching Dace work over my pet would thrill me right about now. Some of my conflict must have shown, because Zo suddenly surged to her feet.

 

“Well,” she said brightly. “That ought to just about conclude the evening, huh Frick?”

 

Startled, Sara’s doppelganger managed to drag her eyes away from the developing scene. “Ummm… yeah, guess it’s getting late.”

 

It was amusing to see how reluctant the doctor couple was to leave, but they gathered up coats and let themselves be escorted to the door. “Drive careful,” I couldn’t resist calling out, receiving dual waves as the door clicked shut.

 

“Carry on,” Zo said somberly, gathering up some dishes and vanishing into the kitchen.

 

“Well then,” Dace chortled and hooked a foot over Pai’s shoulder, roughly shoving the girl towards the boot she’d been fondling for some minutes now. “You can stop fucking around and do something with them.” Nearly prostrate, Pai hesitated and Dace’s voice dropped to a silky, threatening purr. “Oh, don’t pretend that you have no clue what the hell I’m talking about, pussy cat. Whassa matter? You put out that Daddy isn’t the one grinding your face into her boots? Or maybe your growly bodyguard over there? Maybe you’re wanting her, hmmm?” Abruptly, she pressed down on Pai’s neck and her voice grew stronger. “Tough shit, slut. You’re mine now, and you damn well better do as I say.”

 

A chuckle escaped me as Pai squirmed, moaning softly. Good on Dace for stumbling into the girl’s long-standing crush on Liv. Catching my smile out of the corner of her eye, Dace leaned back and grinned. “Hey Bane, could you please toss me that dishcloth?”

 

“Sure,” Karen agreed easily, tossing over the towel.

 

“Since you and me are new to each other, pussy cat,” Dace continued in that same conversational tone. “You can use this to clean up first. But I want that pretty little mouth to make my boots shine. You got it?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Pai murmured and scrubbed the terrycloth over the black leather. This ought to be interesting, for this wasn’t one of my particular kinks. Pai was doing me proud though, and was obviously willing to give this strange skill her best go. Good girl. I’d have to think of something special to reward her for her diligence, especially after she’d been so nervous.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Ah, now this would be fun. It was obvious that Pai had barely a clue what the hell she was doing, and I made a mental note to give her a break. I’d harass her a bit, let her get the leather wet and then get Fenris to help me reward her.

 

After the enthusiastic pressure of the towel, Pai seemed at a bit of a loss of what to do. “Go on,” I encouraged gently, willing to start out coaching her a bit. “Show me how much you love the smell and feel of the leather. That pretty mouth of yours is sensitive and soft. I like it.”

 

Her bewilderment transformed into a shy smile and I chuckled to myself. Seductive little creature, this one was. “Yes ma’am,” she whispered and pressed tentative kisses to the steel toes, feeling the horsehide stretched tight over the unforgiving metal. That left me to turn my attention to Fenris and Jo.

 

“Y’know, I’m curious. Where did the name Pai-Gow come from? It vaguely rings a bell, like I should know it.”

 

Once again, it took Fenris a moment to focus, distracted as she was by Jo in her lap and the spectacle Pai was making of herself. I couldn’t help the lazy, arrogant grin that so often got me into so much trouble. Clearing her throat, Fenris tried to get her brain out of her crotch. “It’s… um, a card game. Based vaguely on poker, except that you can win even with a shitty hand, if the dealer’s is worse than your own. It fit her. And the Chinese name was perfect, since she’s originally from Hong Kong.”

 

“Interesting,” I mused, dropping my gaze back to where Pai-Gow was getting more enthusiastic with my beloved boots. Carefully grinding my other heel into the small of her back in encouragement, the pressure increased where her movements translated through the horsehide to my skin. “Good girl.”

 

Now, if I could just get the bodyguard to stop hovering like a hurricane off the coast of Florida. What the hell was her problem anyway? I’d think that a Sword escorting the Bitch in Charge would be a least a little discrete. There was something about the guard dog that didn’t jive with the whole picture here. But how to investigate without making my old pal look bad?

 

“If you’re going to hover,” I said conversationally, giving the brunette a flat, challenging stare. “You ought to just jump in.” Then I pitched my voice seductive, smiling slow and suggestive, letting my free foot trail over Pai’s hip and thigh. “She’s meaty enough for two. You’ve been glowering hotly enough, guard dog. It’s obvious that you’re interested, and it’s not like the little slut’s gonna say no.”

 

++ Olivia ++

 

The pressure broke over me in a blinding wave.

 

‘It’s not like the little slut’s gonna say no.’

 

Every victim flashed across my mind’s eye, their faces broadcasting a fear and trauma that I could barely comprehend. My mother raped by that filthy bastard that fathered me. Now I had a fellow cop, someone who should be protecting girls like Pai, taunting me like some kind of filthy pimp! She was an arrogant son of a bitch, and my rage roared up like a hungry animal.

 

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, adrenaline spiking up well-honed reflexes. I worked the most horrific of human crimes and my reflexes were razor-sharp from practice. Couple that with my complete disregard for my own safety, and I had no problem in rushing that smug bitch. Blue eyes widened in shock as I growled something to the effect of, “get away from her, you pig,” and lunged.

 

There was a blur of sound and noise, barely discernable through the roar of blood in my ears. Pai scuttled off with a squeak of alarm as I slammed into her tormentor and we went down in a tangle.

 

The next thing I was aware of was that, somehow, I’d ended up on top where we’d fallen to the floor. My arm was cocked back like the hammer of a gun and I took a good look at Dace’s eyes.

 

She had no clue what the hell was going on and was starting to get angry.

 

I hesitated. 

 

She was an embodiment everything I hated in humanity. Exploiting another person! My blood boiled at the thought.

 

But Pai hadn’t said no…

 

Before I could make a decision, several bodies dog-piled on me all at once and I found myself face-down against the highly polished concrete floor in an expert police hold.

 

++ Jo ++

 

Only later would I be able to process what the hell had happened. For the moment, reflex took over. The most amazing expression of pure, animal rage came over Liv’s face, distorting her features. Dace never saw the attack coming, looking back to Pai with that same arrogant, seductive grin. In an instant, Liv’s utterly unexpected lunge had them on the floor, Dace sprawled on her back and only just starting to react to the ambush…

 

And Liv’s fist cocked back, ready to strike.

 

Yelling my old partner’s name, I flailed away from Michael and lunged with everything I had. There was a blur I dimly recognized as Catherine before we bodily tackled Liv away from a really stupid mistake. Without that uncharacteristic moment of hesitation, I would have never reached Liv before she landed at least one nasty blow.

 

“Benson!” I bellowed, truly worried about the rage I spotted in her dark eyes, my wiry body wrapped around her like a bad cold. Something landed heavily across my shoulders and Liv grunted in something that was close to pain as Catherine somehow managed to gather up both wrists like a prized calf roper. As I started slithering out from under Catherine’s small weight, Michael was hesitating between Liv and her downed buddy. Dace had propped herself onto both elbows and was watching the rest of us with the funniest look on her face. It was a mix of baffled and annoyed and amused.

 

“Been awhile since that’s happened,” Dace deadpanned dryly as Liv huffed in distress beneath Catherine’s rough treatment.

 

“Uncle,” she wheezed. “I swear, I’m done. Ow!”

 

“Jeezus, Dace,” Michael fretted and helped her friend up. “I’m sorry.”

 

“S’okay,” Dace shrugged it off to my amazement and knelt beside Catherine. “Cath, it’s okay,” she crooned lovingly, stroking the woman’s back. “C’mon, let up, baby. It’s okay.”

 

Slowly, Catherine began to loosen her grip while I remained near Liv to make sure that her stupidity had run its course. Staring into the earnest blue-gold eyes finally brought Catherine to herself and she fell into Dace’s arms with a strangled sound. Liv stretched out with a groan, but made no move to get up.

 

“Jeez,” Zo deadpanned from where she stood nearby with Karen. They made an intimidating pair. “If you were gonna duke it out like a couple of street thugs you could have at least taken it to the boxing ring at the Staff and Scroll and given the Amazons a thrill.”

 

“Yeah, that’ll do,” Dace agreed in a deceptively calm tone as she clumsily stood, cradling Catherine. “You set up the time and place, Fen. Me and your guard dog have some things to work out.”

 

It wasn’t a request.

 

++ Michael ++

 

Yikes, she was pissed off…

 

Couldn’t blame her. Looking back, I spotted a glaring error on my part. I had never introduced Dace to who Liv really was. There had been too many people, and by the time all this had come to a head, I had simply forgotten. “I’m so sorry Dace,” was all I could manage as she walked away.

 

“Karen, could you do me a favor and get Sara for me? I dunno if she’s up to walking yet.” She paused beside Pai and flashed the girl a gentle smile. “Buck up, pussy cat. You were doing a great job. Maybe we’ll get a chance to finish what we started someday, hmmm?” With that, she walked away without acknowledging me. Ouch. 

 

Karen flashed me an unreadable look and I felt a sharp pang that they were mad at me. Sara’s eyes were huge in her face at what she’d woken to, but she allowed Karen to pick her up and walk out. Pai looked nearly as traumatized.

 

“I did warn you about what you’d see,” I said quietly, looking longingly after my old pals.

 

“Sorry, Michael,” Liv muttered from where she was still prone on the chilly floor. “I just lost it.”

 

“Jeezus Liv,” Jo whispered, obviously torn about where her loyalties lay.

 

“I understand,” I broke in, kneeling down and gesturing Pai over to be tucked under one arm, while I did the same to Jo. They were so tense… “We never introduced you, Liv. Dace thinks you’re one of my enforcers.”

 

Startled, Liv rolled to her side and stared up at me. “Oh shit.”

 

“Yes. She was in character as her play persona tonight, not the cop she is in her real life. This night off was supposed to be a break for her from being on duty and we fucked it up.”

 

Wincing, Liv sat up and rotated her neck and shoulders. “Maybe I should try to explain why I freaked out.”

 

“No. Dace isn’t the type to dwell on words. She’s a woman of action and already gave us a public apology. If you’re up to it. Let you get all that pent-up aggressiveness out, hmmm?”

 

She was trying to rein in the high emotions in her eyes, but wasn’t succeeding very well. At least this time she didn’t appear to be ready to go off. So I turned my attention to my sweet Jo. “Are you still willing to stay?”

 

“Of course. I’ll try to explain to Dace tomorrow.”

 

“Good, Thank you, Jo.” The use of her real name was intentional and earned a pleased, shy smile, effectively dousing the temper and adrenaline in her bright eyes. “We three will go back to the Staff and Scroll to set up the match.” Raising my gaze to the brooding, silent Zo, I pitched my voice soft with an edge of pleading that had always worked wonders when I knelt in subservience at KC’s boots. “I’m terribly sorry about how the evening turned out. Please accept my apologies. We should be going.”

 

For an unexpectedly long moment, those aquamarine eyes held mine, and I wondered at what danced behind them. She was an enigma, this one was. Then she smiled thinly and nodded her acceptance to my apology. So I dropped a quick kiss on Jo and stood to haul both Pai and Liv to their feet.

 

“This is the last time I let you wear leather,” I sighed at Liv. She’d have to earn the suit back if she wanted it. Deep night still held Chicago in its icy grip and I huddling into my thick camel hair coat and the led the way to our car. What a strange night it had been…

 

++ Jo ++

 

Still immeasurably pleased by how Michael had treated me tonight, I dreaded facing Dace. So I braced myself and headed for the big bedroom, Zo’s gaze was heavy and knowing as I passed her. 

 

Catherine was already curled up in a ball beneath the covers, Sara hovering over her anxiously, petting the pale hair. Meeting the worried dark eyes, I nodded and headed for the bathroom. Dace stood in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection, toothbrush curled in one hand.

 

A long moment passed in stillness as I studied her. So many changes had taken place in such a short period of time, all centered around this enigmatic woman and the killer she was hunting.

 

“She used to be my partner,” I said quietly and Dace started in surprise, her gaze jerking over to me. “She’s special victims unit now, in Manhattan. I didn’t expect Michael to bring her along and expose her to all of this.” A lame encompassing gesture made me feel like I wasn’t explaining myself well. “Liv’s not good at turning off and decompressing. I wasn’t either, until I met Michael. I can’t excuse Liv’s behavior, but I thought you should know what made her snap. Michael and I are really sorry.”

 

Dace’s expression had never shifted, flat and impassive in the harsh light of the bathroom. So much for a relatively fun assignment…. Dammit Liv!

 

“Okay,” Dace suddenly spoke into the quiet and I was immediately focused onto her again. “That’s fair. I’m not mad at you, Jo. I’m not even really mad at Fenris, just annoyed. SVU, huh? I can’t imagine what Fen was thinking.”

 

“Me,” I supplied truthfully, relieved that Dace wasn’t angry. “I trust Olivia implicitly and she has a bond to both me and Michael. Now that she’s gotten over her stupidity, she should be fine.”

 

“Hmmm,” Dace hummed enigmatically, a smile curling her mouth. “We’ll see. We should get some good sleep. We’re back on tomorrow night and I have your ex-partner to smack around. And our new pals to look after. I’ll need your help with that.” The familiar, teasing grin washed away the last of my stress. Things were going to be okay.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	18. Luck of the Draw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite kind of bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: NC17, hold onto your shorts people, this is a HOT one!
> 
> Pairings: Dace/Jo/Catherine/Sara.

++ Sara ++

 

I needed to pee badly enough to untangle me from Catherine’s somnolent embrace and creep from the bed. It had been a long night of painkillers, poker and strangers, and I had slept like the dead.

 

That made me wonder what had become of Dace and Junkie, but before I could call out for them, the most incredible sound carried through the air.

 

It was like an animal in heat, raw, desperate and needy. Only the crying moan that followed it convinced me that the sound was made by something human. A growl that might have been a word followed it and the conversation of feral noises continued. There was something perilous in the exchange, something thrilling and compelling. Helplessly, I was drawn to the bathroom door where a narrow slice of light cut into the room. Danger, raw need and my eternal curiosity made me peek like a voyeur.

 

And I was absolutely stunned.

 

++ Dace ++

 

I’d woken up that morning alone. Needing to piss, I climbed from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Only to freeze in my tracks. Now, I didn’t have many shock values anymore. Hell, I never really did, but I was left pleasantly speechless by the sexy tableau that Jo had made of herself. She was standing in the enormous marble bathtub beneath the waterfall-style faucet. Water sheeted over her beautiful body, slicked her hair black against her skin. My mouth went dry and my body hot and heavy at the erotic vision. Then she flashed a hot, shy look that turned me into an animal for her. Only my urgent bladder had the power to drag me away from the scene.

 

When I returned, the ante had been upped. I hadn’t noticed the chrome plumbing that made up the waterfall faucet, but Jo obviously had, and was stretched up to grasp the metal, every muscle taut under her skin.

 

“Please Leonacouer,” she whispered only just loud enough to be heard over the gurgle of the waterfall. So I paused for a moment to let the persona settle around me like a cloak. Once I felt the surge of power and pleasure, I stepped into the tub to stand close to Jo’s tense body. A single finger slithering down her spine made her whimper and pull harder at the pipes.

 

“Why Junkie,” I growled in that tone that drove women wild. “Whatever is the matter?” Since she’d gone to all the trouble of this, I’d certainly play along. How Jo loved and hated having to beg, I could tell. She squirmed and moaned, but all I did was step away and cross my arms. “If you need something, ask. Beg. Convince me that you really need it.”

 

With tension like wire cables under her skin, breath harsh and shuddering, Jo fought with her own need and the humiliation of being forced to plead. So I again stepped in close, not quite touching her.

 

“What do you need?” I whispered feather-soft.

 

“Please Dace, please,” Jo whispered. “I need you so bad… please make me scream. Please.”

 

Feigning shock in my tone even as I smiled wickedly, I teased, “why Puppy, you know there’s only one sure fire way to get you to scream.”

 

“Yes,” she enthused and squirmed against the smooth tiles. “Please beat me, make me scream!”

 

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

 

There were many who insisted that playing rough meant painful restraints and expensive leather gear. While those were tons of fun, as well as the handcuffs from our ‘day job’, I had been thrilled by our initial bondage session with the towel. If she ever trained with me for any period of time after all of this was over, laundry was going to be really interesting!

 

I used the robe sash to tie her securely to the plumbing before collecting my prop. When the soft terrycloth tickled over her tight ass, Jo moaned in earnest. Oh yeah, she knew what was coming.

 

++ Jo ++

 

I wanted it so bad I could cry. Spending the night so close to Michael and yet so far, had left me feeling a little crazy in my skin. Not to mention the stressful encounter with Liv! This morning I had gone to the bathroom only to be stopped up short by the piles of thick towels and the exotic bathtub. Since Dace wasn’t a heavy sleeper and vice-versa, I deliberately set up the seduction.

 

And Dace didn’t disappoint. The woman knew me so well already, anticipated me like a telepath and left me second-guessing for more. No wonder I was already half madly in love with her. Needing to tell her suddenly, I turned my head to kiss the corner of her mouth. “You’re the best Dace,” I whispered softly as to not jar us completely from our playing. The admission made her smile winningly, warmth shining in her pale eyes. 

 

“Flatterer,” Dace hummed and kissed me softly. “You ready?”

 

Ah yes, the tickle of the towel against my ass. “Yesssss… Do it Leonacouer, please.”

 

There was something magical about a rolled up towel in my new lover’s hands. She had done things with a yard of terrycloth that had sent me straight into orbit. The thick fabric had enough weight behind it to feel the thump of its rolled length against my ass. One, two, three, four, five: it was starting to get damp now from the water on my skin, becoming heavier and harder. It was the perfect buildup to the loving beatings I had learned to adore from Michael and now from playing with Dace. By the time the blows really hurt, I was so close to a stratospheric orgasm I was ecstatic to take it hard and fast.

 

“Please! Please!” I dimly heard myself plead, the cries becoming more incoherent and guttural as our passion wound tighter. The marble tile wall pressed into my sensitive belly and breasts, scraping both nipples raw on the grouted seams. Every thud of the roll of terrycloth on my ass sent my body lurching into the pleasantly warm water and uneven surface. Burrowing past my wet hair, Dace bit down on the back of my neck as hard fingers wormed between my shaking thighs. With the wet towel crushed between our two bodies, her teeth in my flesh and her fingers deep in my cunt, I felt the rush scream through my nervous system, ready to turn me inside out.

 

++ Sara ++

 

Terror made me run. Or at least try to. 

 

I was seven years old again on the outskirts of my home in the wilds of California.

 

Being stalked.

 

It had terrified and fascinated me, the glint of golden eyes in the moonlight. 

 

An eternity had passed while the cougar; only later did I know it was a cougar, stared at me. The mutual curiosity had been a palatable force between us. This rare wild being suppressed beneath the weight of humanity and a tall, gawky girl with a fierce inquisitiveness. Before it occurred the young me to be afraid, the enormous cat vanished into the moonlit dimness without a whisper of sound.

 

I never saw the cat again. Nor did I ever tell a living soul of the encounter.

 

But I did always wonder what that cat wanted, if it was a curious as I was, what its fur must have felt like… what it was like to be hunted by something so feral and untamed.

 

I stumbled painfully from the bathroom door…

 

The predator was right behind me.

 

In a burst of adrenaline and hormones and superior physical adeptness, I was taken down like the completely willing prey I knew I was. An expert, tackling roll had me completely pinned beneath Dace’s greater weight and I was forced to stare into her eyes. My common sense, the higher brain functions that made me a decent, law-abiding citizen of humanity, took one look at that feral glower and ran screaming into the depths of my skull. Like a mouse hypnotized by a deadly snake, I stared up at her and waited for my doom.

 

“Hey!” Catherine yelped in shock as a small bedside lamp blazed to life. “What the fuck…”

 

A harsh growl silenced my partner as a hard hand wove itself into my hair to thump my skull into the carpet just hard enough to rattle me. “If you’re gonna play at being a voyeur,” Dace growled in a tone that made every fine hair on my body stand on end. “You’ll play my way.”

And in a few expert moves, I was hauled to my feet by the hand in my hair, the other tight in the fabric of my t-shirt.

 

“And you,” she growled at Catherine, who I could almost feel freeze at the aggressive demand. “Will stay right where you are and listen.” It never even occurred to me to object at the rough treatment; I was seduced far too thoroughly by my animal brain. Sleep, shelter and sex, that’s all it cared about and Dace was obviously capable of handling any need I could throw at her. Or so I hoped and prayed. “Stay on that wall and don’t move,” Dace barked as I was hauled into the bathroom and thrown against the wall nearest the door. Jo stood frozen as well, trapped by the growling voice just as effectively as the tightest of bonds.

 

++ Dace ++

 

I’d reacted without thinking, fully lost in the role. Half reflexes and half the kind of human predator I usually hunted, I had tackled Sara with no thought to consequences. And just as my sense of propriety and rules was about to start making sense to my reeling mind… I had looked into her shadowed eyes.

 

And now she was mine.

 

Once again the role was settled around me like armor, and all everyday rules and regulations were shoved aside. Sara was a lightweight and I had no problem muscling her around. A harsh bark at Jo to keep her in character bought me a few seconds to adapt the scene to accommodate this horny woman I had a longstanding crush on. I remembered her curious and hot earthy gaze lingering on me and Jo. She was a different blaze of sexual connection, a willowy enigma with a fierceness and intelligence I really wanted to delve into. I liked the shyness and sensual curiosity that I had seen in her dark gaze from the first moment we had been reunited in the Staff and Scroll.

 

And now she was mine.

 

A fierce glare assured me that my new toy was not going to so much as breathe heavily until I let her, and I could return to my confused and horny Sub. There was no playing this time, I pressed myself into Jo’s back and hugged her. “I’ve got you, baby,” I purred softly and began to stroke her silky skin. 

 

“Dace?” Jo whimpered in confusion and trust, wanting me, needing me to help keep her on an even keel while so vulnerable like this. My innate adaptability and my admiration for this woman scrambled to reassure her.

 

“You are so sexy,” I whispered softly and nuzzled her ear. “I brought somebody to watch you, to appreciate you. Should I finish what we started? I think you need some attention, hmmm?”

 

Unlike our earlier play, this was affectionate and sweet lovemaking. Skimming my hands over her to comfort and arouse, I succeeded in coaxing out her moans, her hips beginning to rock to the energy still coiled deep inside. Poor baby had been left dangling from the cliff of orgasm and I wanted so bad to gently push her over. Tender and teasing, I slipped a couple of fingers beyond the wiry curls and was relieved to feel that she was still quite turned on.

 

“Come on, pet,” I encouraged softly, stroking her slow and even in time with her deepening breathing.

 

“Dace,” she groaned again, arching back and burying her face in my wet hair. This seemed almost harder on her; this slow, gentle loving that left her so vulnerable. The measured smolder that made her feel every nuance, instead of being burned alive by the sensations. Whining and sobbing, Jo rocked on my one hand while I stroked her belly and breasts to fuel her higher. She came with a gasp instead of a scream, her body shuddering in my hold. “Dace!”

 

“That’s a girl,” I praised as she began to come down from the orgasmic high. We breathed deeply together for long moments, our company forgotten. Once her hands were untied, Jo turned and threw her hands around my neck to kiss me soundly. I quite willingly melted into her.

 

“God, you’re good,” she whispered at last and the smile on my face threatened to make my face hurt. Then her eyes widened in something that may have been alarm.

 

++ Jo ++

 

Relaxed and happy in the circle of my new lover’s arms, I kissed and nuzzled her, loving the deep smile I earned. Then something caught my eye.

 

Still a little high from post-orgasmic bliss, my brain refused to panic while it processed this new information. So much for well-honed cop reflexes. I was too well trained in the context of this role to react the way I would as Detective Polniaczek. Dace liked this willowy brunette from Las Vegas, that much was blatantly obvious. The thing with the blonde was weird, an intensity that was a little off-putting, where as with Sara, I think Dace just fiercely wanted to daddy the woman. 

 

Maybe, once I was forced to walk away from this tall, blonde addiction, someone like Sara could replace me. As much as the thought torqued me, it was the truth. There was the whole of the United States between San Francisco and New York. It would be an off and on affair at best. And then there was Michael’s mark burning my spine, reminding me that my loyalty wasn’t entirely my own anymore.

 

So, I stared fiercely into the mercurial earthy gaze of Sara, willing her to understand. The last bit of lethargy evaporated as comprehension dawned and acceptance, willingly given, flooded her gaze. 

 

With a last kiss to a very curious Dace, I stepped from the tub and slowly padded over to Sara. Dammit, it bugged me that I wasn’t short, but I kept ending up around woman who made me feel that way. At least Catherine was shorter than I was. Wonder where she was right about now?

 

There was fear and curiosity and a sexual burn of need that looked to be borderline painful coloring Sara’s eyes the shade of wet, freshly turned earth. I was torn about what to do, my head canting to one side as I held her gaze and pondered. Then my brain helpfully scrolled out a series of images against my mind’s eye.

 

Tall, though not quite Dace’s impressive height, with greyhound lines and a carefully coiled energy that she was nearly vibrating with, I had to wonder if Sara was a tiger in bed. These two slender Amazons wrapped around one another was something I really needed to see. So I smiled and Sara’s eyes widened fractionally. 

 

“Stay,” I invited simply and gathered her cool hand in mine. Only then did a small smile warm her face.

 

++ Sara ++

 

In a deliriously happy five-year-old-at-Christmas kind of way, I tightened my fingers in Jo’s loose grip. There was no backing out now, unless CD threw me out on my ass. Coherent thought fled again as Junkie tugged my head down to kiss me thoroughly. I’d been around long enough to have done a few crazy things, been loved and tossed aside, had memories both good and bad of my few lovers. This woman’s talented, sensual kiss helped shove all those memories aside, all the self-recriminations, all the fears and doubts.

 

Both hands were in my hair now, and I slouched down the wall to wrap both arms around her and hold on for dear life. I felt more than heard the moan that rumbled up from deep inside as Junkie coaxed my lips apart and her agile tongue slipped behind my teeth to mark the territory as ‘explored’ on my body’s map. Her skin was warm and silky and damp, an intoxicating balance of feminine softness and coiled muscle. Slowly, blissfully slowly, she began to pull away and I realized that I was shaking. Between their show in the bathtub, the adrenaline from Dace’s taking me down, their acceptance and the draining soul kiss, I was shuddering as though buffeted by hurricane winds. Some banal corner of my brain was actually concerned I might hyperventilate and pass out.

 

A shadow moved across my vision, and thick terrycloth suddenly pressed against my wrists and hands where they rested on Jo’s back. Startled at the new stimuli, I jerked my gaze up to be caught once again by Dace’s feral stare. The heat in her gaze was like a caress on my skin and my already elevated body temperature spiked up a few degrees. Jo leaned back and allowed Dace to wrap her warmly in the big bathtowel. “Thank you, Leonacouer,” Jo purred and the sound seemed unnaturally loud in the steamy bathroom. “And as for you,” she added in a stronger, and very amused tone, jerking my attention back to her. “As interesting a tactile sensation as this fancy tie dye shirt might be on bare skin, ditch it. You’re gonna pass out from heat stroke.” She was already untucking the lightweight cotton, warm hands ducking inside to skim over my sensitive belly. 

 

Then the most extraordinary thing happened. As though sensing that I was on the verge of unconsciousness or panic, Dace made some amused and mildly annoyed noise and hooked one hand around the back of my neck. In one quick tug, my head was nestled into her shoulder, Junkie’s smaller body wedged between us, both of their silky manes hiding my face for a long moment. With a low chuckle, Jo slithered out from between our taller bodies only to hug me from behind. “Play nice, Daddy,” she teased. I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to look into the cougar-bright eyes. Hell of a time to get shy. Strong hands soothed over my back as Jo crouched down to pull one foot up off of the ground to tug at my sock. Now I was dependent on CD for balance and clung even tighter. 

 

“I don’t bite,” the tall cop suddenly purred into my ear. “Unless asked nicely.”

 

I couldn’t help it and started laughing.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Sara’s laughter shook her slight frame even as she lurched awkwardly in my hold from Jo removing her socks. I gripped tighter until she was steadier on her feet. Jo stood and I felt her hands worm in between our two bodies. “So,” I asked conversationally, my need growing sharp in my belly, making me reckless. “Care to stick around for awhile?” It was far too entertaining to make her laugh, especially when she rewarded me with a hesitant yet needy kiss. Shy, nibbling brushes of her well-formed mouth feathered over my lips and jaw. I was happy to let her experiment and get to know my skin.

 

Jo’s hands wiggled around so close to where I knew I was probably dripping down the inside of my thighs and both of us tall girls moaned softly from the stimulation. “Catherine,” Sara suddenly gasped and I turned my head to see the fierce blonde framed in the doorway. She looked annoyed as hell, but something deeper and more feral flashed in her sparkling blue eyes. All I could see was a bristled-up Coyote, and the cat growled back. Turning my back to Sara and deliberately keeping her tucked up against my back, I let the cat answer this challenge from this sunset mongrel that she needed so damn bad. It was so frustrating, this fire of connection that was both me and something living deep within me, but not me at all. Rather than back down from my toothy challenge, the Coyote snarled back, carefully dancing on dainty paws to prance sideways, back arched and fur fluffed up to make herself look bigger. I understood the irritated fascination all to well, as it burned both ways.

 

Not knowing exactly how to deal with the strange canine that we needed so much, the cat oh-so-helpfully vanished into the shadows of my mind. Balling my hands into fists, I leveled my best icy glare at Catherine.

 

“Either jump in and follow my rules, or get out.”

 

There was a long moment as Sara breathed heavily into the back of my neck as I stroked her hip under my hand. Blue eyes flickered from my glare to my caressing hand and back and forth. Cougars were solitary hunters by nature, but my human need for companionship was a compromise that the cat seemed to understand. By seeing them as sexual prey, I soothed that beastly need.

 

“You do remember that there’s a perfectly comfortable bed in the other room, right?” Jo’s sarcasm had the desired effect of getting us to move. As we separated, Sara nearly tripped up as her jeans dropped around her ankles and we burst out laughing like a pack of hyenas, effectively scattering any lingering tension. So that’s what Jo had been doing, fumbling around at our waists. I swatted them both on the butt to get them moving, enjoying their startled and pleased ‘yipes’. Then I grabbed the silent Catherine with a rough hand on her jaw. 

 

“Please stay. I need you, but my need manifests in such strange ways sometimes. I can finish what we started at the bar that first night.” The small blonde flushed at the memory and I grinned. “C’mon then. We have unfinished business.” My hard grip shifted to grip the back of her neck and propelled her into the next room. It was a sexy tableau; Jo sprawled back on the disarrayed sheets and Sara in her tousled t-shirt and silky lingerie, standing nervously beside the bed. “You,” I growled at Catherine and gave her a firm push towards Jo. “Bed. Now.” There was another moment of hesitation that was hurried by the crack of my knuckles across the fine ass I’d been admiring since I’d met her. That left me to step up behind Sara, who had obviously remained aware of where I was at all times. Curious about the feel of her, I stepped up behind her and placed both palms on the prominent shoulder blades. She moaned softly and Jo rolled onto her side to grin wickedly at us and Catherine climbed into the bed beside her. Grinning at the sight of them, I smoothed my hands over Sara’s narrow back to curve around her ribs and down to cup her flat abdomen, teasing the bare strip between the t-shirt and the silky panties. 

 

“Oh yeah,” Jo breathed. “Just like that.”

 

The tie dyed cotton bunched around my fingers as they wandered higher to map the terrain of Sara’s skin. Nuzzling into the shoulder-length hair, I found her skin and began to lick and suckle at the tight tendons of her neck. “Sara?” I breathed. It was a mean tease, to make her think while I was feeling her up, but I was curious about something.

 

“Yes?” She groaned and gripped my wrists as my hands slithered higher, brushing the underside of her breasts. Oh, she was a sensitive one. Excellent.

 

“What nationality is Sidle? I’ve always been curious.”

 

“Umm…” She hedged and I upped the ante by circling the rough pads of my fingertips around her erect nipples, making her gasp, and pressing my body tighter to her back.

 

“Aw c’mon,” I coaxed in my darkest and sexiest tone. “You can tell me.”

 

“Wha…” Oops, guess it was time for me to back off from those tempting nipples to give her a chance to think for a moment instead of twitching like a bug on a pin. “I have no idea,” she finally managed to breathe out. “What does CD stand for? Everyone in the police force in San Fran... Francisco must have wondered at some time or the other.”

 

I snorted softly in annoyed amusement and covered her breasts in a loving hold. Instantly, she was groaning and squirming and her grip on my wrists tightened. A sharp look at the pair on the bed effectively smothered the humor in their blue eyes.

 

“It’s short for Candace Dorothy,” I responded to her body’s delightful begging, not quite believing I was confessing my hated name so publicly. “And don’t laugh or I’ll leave you hanging like this.” A firm squeeze of her nipples ensured my dignity would stay intact. 

 

“Wouldn’t… fuck… dream of it.”

 

++ Jo ++

 

Oh, this was just too damn good. It was like some illicit fantasy played out for my amusement. The afternoon sun filtered through the skylight, casting them in a hazy light that was fascinating on their pale skins. Sara arched back into Dace’s stronger body, pressing her chest into those teasing hands. One of her hands wove into the short sunshine of Dace’s mane, while the other remained wrapped tightly around the hand now trailing seductively down her belly. My own hormones were reawakening fast in response to the sight of my new lover pleasing another so skillfully, and Catherine was panting near my ear, her body warm against my back. Those blunt-nailed fingertips skimmed along the elastic edge of the peach-silk underwear and Sara unsuccessfully tried to press them closer, tried to arch her aching sex into the tormenting touch.

 

“CD,” she groaned and it slurred out more like ‘seed’. “Please.”

 

I watched hungrily as that familiar hand slid under the flimsy fabric, curling around the sweet curve of Sara’s groin. Now she cried out in earnest, every slender muscle taunt, knuckles white with pressure. All I could do was stare in abandonment at the press and stroke of Dace’s hand beneath the cloth, Sara’s hips rocking towards release. In a few long heartbeats, the pressure broke and Sara cried out brokenly. Dace growled aggressively and stroked nipples and crotch to keep our new lover strung out for a few more blissful moments, while Catherine groaned softly and tried not to press into my back. It was like a slow, inexorable tsunami, the way Sara continued to quiver and come in Dace’s grip. Wow…

 

“C’mon,” Dace hissed, pushing her further and further, the stuttering cries growing in intensity. “Let it all out. I won’t let you fall.” It was a cracked, quavering bark of a pinnacle that made Sara sound like a howling dog, every muscle and tendon painfully taut in ecstasy before she at last began to wind down. The hand at her chest curled around her waist, its tormenting mate further down, now still in comfort. Gasping and whimpering, Sara went limp, turning her head into Dace and pressing soft kisses to her cheek.

 

“Oh,” she moaned almost incoherently. “Oh God…”

 

Dace grinned wickedly at me, her own eyes fiery with need, and gradually drew her hand from the peach silk to show we of the audience the glitter of moisture on her fingers. With both arms wrapped securely around Sara’s willowy body, Dace walked them both to the bed and lowered her down beside me.

 

“Oh,” she breathed once more and cracked one eye open to regard me. “You get this all the time? Good God, I’m jealous.”

 

++ Sara ++

 

Limp and satiated for the moment, I sprawled out beside Jo and basked in the sensations. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this good. CD’s lovemaking combo of gentle and demanding coupled with Jo and Catherine as intent audience had pushed me further than I’d been before. There was a distant part of my brain that was in full panic mode at what the hell was going on, but my body just felt too good to care.

 

“Now Kittens,” Dace growled and my libido stirred to life again at the black velvet promise of it. “Who’s next?”

 

All I could see was CD crawling onto the bed and ducking down behind Junkie’s body beside me. There was a soft moan in Catherine’s distinct tone and my lizard brain perked up further. Then the bright blue eyes that contrasted with the waterfall of near-black hair swung my way and Jo smiled warmly. “You’ve wanted that for a long time,” she murmured softly as the twined bodies behind her blurred together.

 

Grumbling irritably, the lizard brain allowed a few of my cognitive functions to come to the forefront only enough to feel a small embarrassment and a few scattered memories of San Francisco. “Yeah, I realize that now.”

 

“Excellent. So, you feelin’ good?”

 

“Oh yeah,” I giggled stupidly and her grin deepened.

 

“She’s good,” Jo praised quietly and I could see how much she adored the blonde Amazon.

 

“I always liked her in that arrogant cop kinda way,” was my honest confession and she chuckled softly.

 

“Good. C’mere.”

 

In a few swift moves, I had been tugged into Jo’s body and rolled until I was wedged up against CD’s strong arm and hip, watching the big woman molest my partner. A lifetime of rules and inhibitions faced off with desire and an odd comfort zone that these women inspired. Jo curled against my back and began stroking me with lazy but deliberate intent.

 

There was less gentleness in Dace’s handling of Catherine, the almost-rough press of her body and hands making my partner writhe. One knee drew up, nudging Catherine’s leg to hook over a bare hip and pressing that limb between mine.

 

“Now,” Dace murmured softly against Catherine’s mouth. “I’ve been teasing you for awhile.” Catherine moaned softly as Dace’s hips ground into her pelvis and her fingers tightened in the dark gold hair. “You like it?” Again a moan and the feral grin deepened. “Betcha do. If I keep you strung tight and hard like this, I bet you’ll come like a gasoline explosion, huh? Walk that razor edge, feel your clothes too tight, too hot, too wet. When I’m damn good and ready, I will fuck you until you can’t see, or breathe, or think. And,” Dace’s voice had dropped to a low, threatening hiss by now. “You’ll beg for it.”

 

There was so much mule-headed stubbornness in Catherine’s face that I smothered a snort of dark humor. No wonder Dace was so rough with her. The power clash between them was like two armies battling. Panting like runners, noses pressed together, blue stares unbroken, their hips rocked together in a none-to-subtle dance. Then CD’s larger body tensed like a coiled snake and Catherine writhed impotently under her implacable weight.

 

“Beg for it.”

 

It was little more than a hiss of sound and Catherine tried to halfheartedly to resist. I didn’t know what possessed me to do it, but I leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Dace’s temple. The impulse worked as Catherine made a desperate sound that was nearly a wail of desperation. “Please! God Dace, please!”

 

That’s all the encouragement Dace needed and she attacked Catherine’s fine body like a cat over a fresh kill. It was raw and frenzied, both of them scrambling for the brass ring. 

 

++ Catherine ++

 

How I hated Eddie’s rough treatment of me in the past. How I adored the way this enigmatic stranger would do something that once would have seemed similar. The orgasm swept over me like a riptide and I couldn’t hold in the shattering scream. While part of me hated being teased into a frenzy, the completion was all the more intense. The bizarre connection between us sang harmony.

 

I swear I could hear the Cougar screaming her mating need.

 

Listening to Dace’s harsh breathing, there was more in our immediate future. “C’mere sexy,” Jo coaxed her, and Dace climbed away from my exhausted body with no further prompting. I watched them kiss, hard and loving, Jo’s fingers tight in the short blonde hair. “You’ve been so good to us. You need some relief. Sar, c’mere.”

 

It was heavenly to watch them kiss as Sara squirmed over to catch Dace’s panting mouth in a kiss. Dace was desperate and disjointed in her movements, so Sara grabbed the short tresses to keep her focused as Jo began wiggling further down the bed. Oh yeah, we all knew where this was going…

 

Sara very nearly got her lip bit as Jo reached her destination and dove in with relish. Crouched on her hands and knees, Jo wrapped tight around her hips, Dace was well on her way to satisfaction. In fear of Sara getting bit in way that didn’t sound at all appealing, I scooted around to pay attention to hard pink nipples. Sara shifted so that she could join me, leaving all of the major erogenous zones occupied. The position got her away from clenched teeth and let me watch Jo expertly make love to this woman with that smart mouth.

 

In a series of long, groaning cries, Dace’s body began bucking, her fingers digging into the bedding, head thrown back as the orgasm roared through her. Between the three of us, we helped her collapse to lay panting and winded.

 

As Dace tried to catch her breath, I crawled up to wedge my body imperiously between the tall blonde and Sara’s lean body. I adored cuddling and had far too few opportunities to indulge and was delighted with this dog pile of bodies. The sense of family, of pack, was as deep as it was foreign. Sara nuzzled into the back of my skull and sighed happily, her hand resting lightly on my hip. Dace pressed her mouth to my forehead, using her knee to coax me to toss my thigh over her hips. Jo’s arm brushed mine where we both rested them on Dace’s chest.

 

It was bliss.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	19. Sports Betting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dace and Olivia settle their differences in a spectacular fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, but barely.
> 
> Personal Disclaimer: I fell in love with CD in the episode where she was boxing. All sweaty and aggressive… *swoon*. Ahem… so I had to pay tribute.

++ Dace ++

 

If someone had asked me how exactly I’d gotten talked into this, I would have pointed to Jo and Zo. Troublemakers…

 

It was no surprise that the Amazons had a gym of Herculean proportions, with everything from a sprawling bath complex that would have made Cleopatra drool, an Olympic-sized pool, flanked by several smaller ones, a pro-sized rink I bet could accommodate everything from roller-skates to basketball, an artificial turf roof that could accommodate football, soccer or lacrosse, it went on and on.

 

A growl escaped my throat as Zo yanked the laces too tight and she grinned apologetically. “Sorry, ‘daddy’, I’m just gettin’ all horny thinking about this.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?”

 

Once I was properly laced up, I gave Zo a cracking swat with the padded gloves. She blew a kiss and pranced off to giggle with Jo. Damn those two minxes…

 

“C’mon, Leather Spice,” Liv mocked from the ring and I swallowed a fit of immature temper. The ballsy cop from Manhattan had a wicked mouth on her, and an attitude of a wily street dog. I might be able to beat her with my greater size and strangely enhanced reflexes, but her taunting would make me work for it.

 

That powerful, curvaceous, finely muscled body wrapped in paper-thin cotton and painted-on spandex wasn’t helping any either. The woman was gorgeous and dangerous, with enough of a feral edge to make her unpredictable. Bet she was hell on wheels during an interrogation, getting all up in the faces of the scum of New York.

 

I was hardly surprised that I was turned on as well as annoyed. Chuckling, Pony jerked me to a halt and looked me over. “You’ll be lucky if that dog doesn’t pants you,” my old pal drawled and ran her fingers through my scraggly bangs to get them out of my face before yanking the crimson head guard around my skull and pulling the Velcro straps taut under my chin.

 

Let the games begin.

 

++ Olivia ++

 

Probably not the smartest thing I’d ever done, verbally harassing this tall woman, but I needed an edge. Being a smart-mouth had helped keep opponents off balance in the past, and the technique might just work again. She was so quiet, not just verbally, but in the sinuous way that she moved. I had a bad feeling that she was a hell of a lot more dexterous than anyone six god-damn feet tall had any right to be.

 

Smirking like a street punk, I pressed the gloves together and mockingly bowed to her. Face unreadable, Dace oozed through the ropes and padded over to me.

 

I was so damned annoyed that she physically intimidated, towering over me and making me feel short. Hands up defensively, I was surprised when she gently tapped my gloves and smiled.

 

Okay, she didn’t smile so much as bear her teeth. Now it was personal. Damn her for looming!

 

“No blood,” the body-builder Amazon woman said placidly. “And if I tell you to back off, you damn well better back off. Got it?”

 

We both murmured grudging acceptance and followed the gesture to go to our corners. Now I could find out what this enigma was really made of.

 

“Go!”

 

I jumped out, fists up, feeling all the world the brass junkyard dog that Michael compared me and Jo to. Dace grinned and sidestepped to pace along the ropes, making me follow her with my eyes. The ref gave her a dirty look as the blonde passed behind her. That was my opportunity to lunge.

 

It worked! Dace grunted in shock as I slammed a padded fist into her ribs and dropped into a crouch, rolling to my feet and ducking away. Blinking the hit off, Dace shook herself out and continued along the ropes. What kind of damn cat was she?

 

++ Dace ++

 

Okay, the game was on now. Olivia shied away as I mock-lunged, giving me a feel of her speed. “You don’t use your hands much,” I taunted. “Too much mouthiness, too much gun play, not enough working with your hands?” Temper gathered between dark brows. “Don’t remember how to play dirty?”

 

Liv lunged, giving me an easy hit…

 

That came up with air, as she ducked to the side and pain flared up from my kidneys. Dammit! She was quick…

 

“I’m mouthy,” Liv growled, crouched for more. “And can play dirty. Bring it on.”

 

That last one hurt and I whirled with a grunt, leaping at her, only to have her dive away. Pony cursed as Liv dove around her, chuckling in exhilaration. I grabbed the ropes clumsily to redirect my weight, sling-shotting around Pony’s sturdy frame and saw Olivia’s surprise for an instant before we went down in a tangle. “Bitch!” I heard Liv curse as she squirmed away like a greased pig. Good, her temper fraying would work in my favor. Rolling to her feet, Liv glowered balefully and rubbed a glove over a raw patch on her upper arm.

 

Feint, parry, swing, block. It was a loosely structured dance and the pain was exhilarating. Even when she didn’t pull a shot when she connected, I could take her full strength. Olivia Benson had no comprehension of how much abuse I could take. Hell, gettin’ pounded by this sexy thing was more of a turn-on than a punishment.

 

“You don’t scare me,” she snarled as we danced back and forth. “You might scare everyone else, but not me. I’ve stared down a ton more fucked up shit than you in my day.”

 

“Well golly gee,” I sneered back. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me, little dog.”

 

“No?” Liv said innocently. Once more, she psyched me out, redirected a lunge I swore was going for upper body, only to drop and ram her shoulder into my gut, taking us both down. Okay, no more mister nice cat…

 

++ Olivia ++

 

Yes! That gut shot was nasty. She wouldn’t get up from that one easily. Scrabbling away on all fours like a spider monkey, I tried to catch my breath. I was soaking wet with sweat and nerves. I hated that there was such a rapt audience to this brawl. It was too messy to be a match. Brawl was the best word for it, and I was beginning to wonder what the hell I’d been thinking, getting involved in it. Even if I seemed to be winning.

 

“You okay?” The ref was asking Dace, who slapped away the hand that came to rest on her shoulder.

 

With a snarl, an honest-to-Abe snarl, like some kinda pissed-off zoo cat, Dace surged to her feet, eyes flashing gold in the spotlights lighting the room. “Shit!” I barked, dodging wildly. There was no way in hell she could move the fast, but sure enough, I felt a truck-like thump into my ribs. Ouch!

 

Yowling fiercely, Dace hit the corner post, coiled up like a snake, and launched herself at me like a Hong Kong action movie star.

 

All in one smooth motion.

 

I’d never seen anything human move like that.

 

Someone was shouting in alarm. It might have been me. Everything seemed to be slowing down as my brain went into emergency mode. Dace was mad, authentically, murderously angry like a pissed off bull and I was suddenly afraid.

 

Without thinking, I coiled up both legs, aimed for those frighteningly gold eyes…

 

And missed.

 

In the space between heartbeats, she was on me like a ton of bricks and I was damn glad that she really wasn’t some kind of zoo critter, because she looked murderous. Hate to go all this time living on the edge to die by having a fellow human being rip out my throat. Perversely, the thought made me laugh.

 

It was the right thing to do, as the impossible gold color in her eyes started to fade. Abruptly, the blonde from Vegas was crouched beside us, making soothing animal sounds at Dace. “If you wanted me on my back,” I sassed gently, all to aware of the threatening press of her body. “There must have been easier ways then trying to kill me.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

The fury swept over me like a suffocating wave. Everything vanished in the blaze of that energy. There were no human limitations, no clumsy short forelimbs and ridiculously long hind legs. I could almost feel the whipping tail balancing my perfect four-legged form. None of these clumsy two-legs could outwit me, even though this musky-sweet stranger was most exhilarating prey.

 

Impact. Hands clumsy in their bindings. My greater weight subduing this dark, wild dog, almost tasting her frustrated growls. Fierce eyes flashed like lightning over rich earth and the beast within me began to fade back into the background, snarling angrily at the internal shift. Disorientation blended with the sensual press of her strong body trapped beneath mine. The Coyote was there, soothing my fury, reminding me of my duty to protect. The dog made a joke that calmed me.

 

“Again?” I sighed resignedly and Catherine rested her head against mine. Thank everything that was ever holy that she was here to calm the cat.

 

“Still here,” Liv grunted, squirming agitatedly. Without thinking, I clamped down, drawing up both knees so that her legs were pried further open and trapped between my hips and thighs. Her feet dangled impotently above me, and I clamped my weight across her upper arms and shoulders, completely incapacitating her, nearly bent in half.

 

And leaving us in a very, very dirty position.

 

“If you were mine,” I whispered in a low, dark tone, falling back on my play personality to save my dignity. “I’d have you tied up with your ass in the air and my fist up your cunt, reaming you out until you screamed for mercy.” Then I was abruptly all smiles, shifting position to pin her legs open even farther and reduce the pressure on her lower back. “Or there’s always this position. Lucky for you, I’m not packing,” I chortled, grinding my crotch as best I could into hers.

 

“Pig,” Olivia hissed, but didn’t exactly try to get away from my teasing.

 

“Funny insult, coming from a fellow cop,” I taunted, pressing down tighter, wrists very close to the pulse beating wildly at her throat. “Maybe lucky isn’t the word,” my voice had grown low and growly again. Damn, but she smelled good… Shaking off the erotic haze, I let her struggle until her lizard brain got a clue and her body stilled. I stared intently into her dark, restless eyes, until they too grew still. We stared at each other for a long, long time. “So, I win.” It felt anticlimactic all of the sudden. I didn’t want to best this wild thing, I liked her edgy fierceness. “I suppose I should take something out of your hide before I let you up.”

 

“Seems only fair,” Olivia ground out between her teeth.

 

“What can I ask of you?”

 

It was a loaded question, hammer pulled back, bullet in the chamber. Olivia turned her head away, obviously fighting with herself. Our audience had grown quiet, probably trying to hear the near-silent conversation, Catherine still lightly stroking my back. Then Liv made some kind of decision and brought her gaze back to mine. Fear, anger, lust and curiosity burned there and she swallowed hard.

 

“Anything you want.”

 

Much better than I expected the evening to end!

 

++ Jo ++

 

Never thought I’d see Olivia show her throat to anyone. Hell, even when Michael and pack had her howling like a tigress in heat, she still seemed in control. Between watching these fine women wrassling like animals in heat and remembering Olivia with Michael and her pack going at her like starving lions on a kill…

 

I was drenched.

 

Olivia groaned in pain as Dace carefully levered off her, letting the smaller body finally unwind to the canvass. “God I’m sore,” my former partner grumbled. “You hit like a mule.”

 

“Stubborn like one too,” Dace agreed placidly, but she was sitting stiffly herself where she leaned on Catherine. “You’re a bit like a traffic accident yourself. I need a massage after that workout.”

 

Pony chuckled and reached down to grab Liv’s hands and gently hoist her upright. “You okay, pit bull? Never seen Dace ever have to work that hard to pin a pretty girl in her life.”

 

I swallowed a laugh and climbed into the ring to hesitantly touch Dace’s arm. “A massage?” She arched an eyebrow at me and I flushed. “Please ma’am. I’m offering my services.”

 

“Much obliged, Junkie,” Dace smiled beatifically and I preened at the attention.

 

“Dace, what havoc are you wreaking now?” A sultry voice called across the gym and Pony lit up along with the tall blonde, who managed to get to her feet.

 

“Mel! This is a pleasant surprise. Did Jane finally get around to letting you know I was in town?” Dace and a towering dark-haired goddess whose coloring was the same as mine hugged, albeit gingerly because of the rising bruises on the fair skin.

 

“Dare I ask what the hell you were doing?”

 

“Playing rough with the junkyard dog over there, doc,” Dace teased back and peeled off the headgear. Immediately, the new woman had the blonde head in her hands, running experienced fingers over the planes of her face.

 

“Well, you haven’t damaged your rugged good looks,” the dark woman chuckled. “I concur with your pal over there. You’ll both need a massage and a more thorough going over.”

 

“By?” Olivia asked suspiciously as Pony managed to get out of her gloves and headgear.

 

“I’m a doctor,” the tall stranger said calmly. “Mel Tairnghael, MD. Now follow me, there’s a rubdown room on the north end.” In a room full of a half-dozen padded tables, Dace went to strip her shirt off and halted with a hiss. “You,” the tall doctor snapped at me and Catherine. “Get that one naked. And you, pit bull, over here.”

 

I was happy to oblige the order, and skinned Dace’s shirt off, then the sports bra hugging her breasts close to her body. It had been a shock the first time I’d seen Dace naked. Her powerful persona masked her slender, feminine physique. Zo was gathering up the discarded clothes and boxing equipment, verbally sparring with Dace as I knelt to tug off shorts and briefs. “She’s more of a Doberman pincher,” Zo chuckled.

 

“Doberman? Yeah, good point. She’s too smart to be a pit bull.”

 

“And too sleek.”

 

“Dobie it is,” Dace said with finality and Olivia scowled half-heartedly. “Better than calling you Yorkie.” That dig made the group laugh, only Liv didn’t really react. She looked lost in thought, as though someone had told her something really important she was only just beginning to figure out. I knew exactly how she felt. When I had first stepped into this life, I had been like that for weeks. Until I handed Michael control when we played in the safe places she made for me. Liv was a smart woman, she’d figure out what she wanted in time.

 

Dace grunted in stiff pain as she hoisted her butt onto the table and carefully twisted until she was sprawled on her stomach. “Last damn time I let you brats talk me into something like this,” she grumbled and Zo and I traded guilty looks. “Go help Mel with Dobie and send Pony over here.”

 

++ Mel ++

 

Seems I couldn’t get away from my doctorly duties. Oh well, at least this time I could touch and not mask my appreciation of the fine female bodies beneath my hands. The black-haired Sub with the big blue eyes materialized at my elbow. If she’d had a tail, it would have been wagging eagerly. So I asked her, “do you know how to do this?”

 

“Only the basics, ma’am.”

 

“Good enough. Open handed stokes, press with the heels of your palms, keep your hands close together and the strokes long and even. Never lift your hands from her skin, it will help relax her. And when she stops being so self-conscious, we’ll get those shorts off.” Dobie muttered something I didn’t quite catch and I refrained from smacking her. “Give me a minute to check her over for any serious damage.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

Once I was reasonably assured that Dobie was relatively unharmed, I left the Sub to attend to sore muscles while I shooed the small blonde and Pony away from Dace. “Everyone’s real happy to see you,” I said conversationally and Dace sighed.

 

“Not the Red Queen.”

 

“Oh please. Just because you two didn’t work out doesn’t mean that a working relationship can’t be built. All the both of you need is some solid communication skills.” Beneath my skilled fingers on her neck, Dace began to unwind.

 

“I suppose. San Francisco’s going to be awkward after all of this.”

 

“You’ll manage. Come talk to me if you need it, okay?”

 

“Thanks Mel,” Dace murmured softly and I felt her hand brush my thigh. That left me to return to a sleepy-eyed Dobie and give the pretty Sub some pointers while the Amazons finished up with Dace. Dobie moaned softly as I began to stroke and kneed her fine musculature.

 

“Y’know,” I announced conversationally to the room at large. “Jane is setting up that formal event for the Suits. She’s thinking of going for a theme.”

 

“That would be fun,” Dace murmured. “Any ideas?”

 

“Plenty. She was leaning towards a masquerade, but I pointed out that this is a reunion. I like a casino theme.”

 

“Excellent. Only, it should be old-world, like a really classy place in the wild west day. Maybe leaning towards Victorian?”

 

Images flooded my brain, ideas clicking into place and Dace echoed my slow grin. “Houston, we have liftoff.”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	20. Odds Always Favor the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the theme of sex and food, taken to an extreme…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, but we’re building towards higher again!

++ Olivia ++

 

(1-12-02)

 

What the hell had I been thinking, agreeing to this? I was insane to promise Dace anything…

 

The stress served me right, for letting hormones cloud my thinking. I didn’t do it often, but when I did… I did it with a vengeance. Hell, I’d had some insane one-night stands in my time. For the sake of my sanity, I quickly shook the memories off.

 

The brawl, because that’s what it was, that I’d goaded Dace into had been hers, fair and square. As mean and quick as I could be, she had simply been faster and nastier. And the eyes? I still hadn’t figured out why they had looked gold when she bared her teeth at me. Because of my confusion, I hadn’t asked what that Japanese word and ‘fondue’ had to do with whatever Dace was going to do to me…

 

That the Amazons had been eyeing at me like a particularly fattening dessert while setting up for some huge event only added to my nerves.

 

“Good, you’re right on time, Dobie,” a now-familiar voice called out and Pony was pacing over to me. The woman looked remarkably normal in jeans and a yellow blouse. “It’s time for your big debut. Follow me.” Lucky me, Dobie seemed to have stuck as my moniker. Oh well, it was better than Junkie, or worse, Yorkie. The thought made me shudder. “Bath first,” Pony was explaining as she led me to a set of rooms that smelled of water and cleanliness. “Then we get you all gussied up. The event starts at eight and we need to get moving now or we’ll be late. And this is not something any of us can be late to.”

 

“Pony? What’s going on?” My question made her stop and face me, her expression open and mildly amused. A little of the threatened feeling in my gut backed off as Pony’s amusement deepened. The rock-hard woman was likable and I believed that I could trust her.

 

“Your punishment, such as it is, is public exposure. There’s a very exclusive, one of a kind really, event going on tonight. It’ll be like nothing you’ve been to, very posh and fancy the way only the leather community can do it. There are some true VIPs here and we’re pulling out the stops for them.”

 

“Meaning?”

 

Pony opened her mouth to reply, but Dace’s voice came from behind me. “We’re the centerpieces.” Whirling, I spotted my nemesis and a gigantic shadow of a man. “This is Tiny. He’s Silverback’s boy. The contrast in our colorings should make the meal unforgettable.”

 

A white smile spread over the chiseled face of the hulking mountain of a black man behind Dace. It was a playful expression, warm and friendly. He was built like a super-sized quarterback and as dark as mahogany. Dace’s pale skin, messy blonde hair and athletically slender build stood stark contrast next to him.

 

“We’re to be cleaned, trimmed, oiled, adorned appropriately, strapped to padded tables and decorated with the evening’s most exotic food offerings.”

 

As Dace spoke, she strode past me with the heavy boot tread I was beginning to associate with her, and stripped her shirt off. I winced at the dusky bruise on right lower back, knowing that was where I’d body-slammed her. I knew that my right shoulder was still raw from where I’d friction burned it on the canvas.

 

++ Dace ++

 

The dark eyes were almost a physical caress. The woman might profess to dislike me and what was going on around her, but her animal reactions spoke a whole different language. “Sally! You sexy thing! Where have you been all my life?” Sally laughed at my flattery and wrapped me in a big hug. She was one of the Amazons I’d trained with so long ago, and a wonderful soul.

 

“So the rumors are true. You’ve returned the fold and the Suits are all going to be here tonight. Your doing?”

 

“I had a hand in it. Has the Red Queen arrived?”

 

“Not yet, but have no fear, you’ll see your Mistress soon enough,” Sally smirked and a distinctly petulant, annoyed feeling raced up my spine.

 

“She’s not my Mistress any longer. There’s a reason I’ll be on display tonight. My loyalties are at loose ends.”

 

“Sorry,” Sally apologized quietly as I brushed past her into the bathing room. I hated how conflicted I was over Sylvia. It would probably always be there, for I had loved her with everything I had to give at one time. Parking my butt on the bench, I yanked off my boots and set them next to me. Uncaring that the others had followed me into the room, I dropped jeans and briefs before going to the rows of nozzles on the wall.

 

“Sal, it’s not your fault. Everyone keeps assuming and it just makes me pissy. Stop hovering and get your butt over here and give me a hand.” While Sally helped me clean up, I could watch Pony try to wrangle Olivia.

 

“You bathe there and then soak in the pool. These Japanese-style baths are the best kind.”

 

“But…”

 

“Oh for the love of the muses, Dobie, stop fussing. Anything you’ve got, we’ve all seen, and will be seeing plenty more tonight. Get naked, you wimp.”

 

“Fine,” Olivia sulked and skinned off her shirt. “Momma Bear.”

 

“She’s got you there, Pony,” Sally laughed as she scrubbed rough-tender fingers through my hair.

 

“Bite me, Sal. Dobie, if you have anything that absolutely must be one hundred percent safe, give it to me. I have a fanny pack that never leaves my person while on duty and you won’t be out of my sight until this event is over.” Liv still looked torn and Pony set and hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder. “Listen, no one here is going to hurt you. Hell, they’ll barely touch you, except in the context of the Scene. All anyone wants to do is appreciate you in a new way. You have to trust someone. I’m as good a guardian angel as any.”

 

“You’ll be nearby?”

 

“Literally at the table, making certain that everyone plays by the rules.”

 

“Trust her,” Sally added gently. “No one messes with Pony. Not the pushiest and most arrogant Tops or the most desperate of Bottoms. You’re in the best, most professional and alert hands.”

 

Wordlessly, Liv reached for the small of her back and I was unsurprised at the small, holstered pistol she dropped into Pony’s hand. A leather wallet followed it and both vanished into Pony’s pouch with no further fanfare.

 

“You owe me,” Olivia growled at me and I began to feel bad. The woman was just trying to be a good friend and cop and I was pushing. But she gamely stripped down while Sally redirected the conversation.

 

“Need a trim, Dace?” Sally asked, tousling the odd lengths of short blonde hair.

 

“Thanks, yes,” I murmured, distracted by Olivia’s bravery and the clumsy striptease.

 

“Tiny, are you going to need a shave?”

 

“Yes. Thank you.”

 

“I’ll scare up the Johnster for ya.”

 

“Thank you. I always appreciate the best.”

 

Dobie jumped as Pony grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her over towards me. She was a gorgeous woman, muscled and beautifully curvy. Flushed, but well-behaved now, she allowed Pony to grab the hose nozzle and start in on bathing her. “I feel like livestock,” she grumbled half-heartedly and I chuckled.

 

“That’s part of it. The appeal of this culture, I mean. The potential of the facelessness of it. To not be yourself, but just a beautiful creature to be admired and fondled. The sex is reward, as is the attention. Everyone likes to be admired, we just take that to extremes. You have a damn nice figure and there will be plenty who will appreciate that. We’ll just dress you up to accent that innate appeal. There’s a strange safety zone in being a nameless pretty face, sort of like acting while wearing a mask. But it’s the best damn feeling when you get to do it for someone higher on the food chain than yourself. Especially when you like them, or care a lot about them.”

 

I was rambling, but she was listening intently. “So, why me?”

 

“Because I like your coloring, and you’re gorgeous and interesting. Besides, you should get a taste for all of what we do, not just a weekend of wild sex with Michael and her pack. Not that there’s not a definite place for that, but the ritual of this life can be addictive.”

 

“You got a piece of Fenris?” Pony teased an embarrassed and curious Dobie. “There are some jealous folks out there, to be sure.”

 

Sally trimmed my wild hair while Johnster, the geek who never smiled, came in with his bag of tricks. He was a strange character, looking like a sci-fi dork, but in command of an extremely interesting talent that served him well in this environment. No one knew where he learned it, but he was brilliant, and had the perfect attitude for the clientele. Olivia watched in fascination as the skinny man pulled out a half-dozen varieties of shavers, including an evil-looking straight blade. With astonishing speed, the man plied his blades over every inch of Tiny’s gleaming skin, head, chest, groin, ass, legs, everything. The only hair on Tiny’s body was his carefully manicured eyebrows and eyelashes. I applauded as Johnster finished and looked to Pony, whose instructions were curt.

 

“Just a trim on the girl here.”

 

++ Olivia ++

 

When the bespectacled geek came at me, I just about decked him. “Are you insane!?!? Get the hell away from me!”

 

“Oh, dial down, Olivia,” Pony sighed at my dramatics. “Johnster here is an ‘artiste’. He doesn’t give a damn about your goodies. Trust me, if he’d been interested in anything but his singular talents, the Amazons would have castrated him by now. All he’s going to do is make sure that your body hair is trimmed up artistically.”

 

This was so weird. Insane really, but what was more insanity in my life right now? Still glaring, I allowed the expressionless man to pull up a stool. It was bizarre to feel his clinical touch and the tug of razor blades on my abdomen. It was creepy really, to have those deadly blades against my flesh, the touch of them feather-light, barely tugging at the hair. Legs apart, I stood frozen and embarrassed while he took a tiny pair of scissors to my pubes and tiny wisps of dark curls floated down to the tiles.

 

No one made a sound while he worked, probably worried that they’d spook me. “Turn,” Johnster murmured quietly and I did as instructed. The razor drifted over my legs, and I grumbled and growled as I allowed him to bend me over and shave the sensitive skin around my asshole. Dammit! Why was I doing this? Pony pet my head where she balanced me, one strong hand on my head, her hard hip anchoring me.

 

There was a dark little part of me that was beginning to see the appeal of this life. To be fussed over like this was enormously flattering. To leave behind the taboos of a daylight life was amazingly freeing. However, I was still flushed with embarrassment as Johnster stood me up and had me raise both arms. Any stubble that had grown in my underarms was gone now, and the man cleaned off any fuzz on the back on my neck. I watched his cool, dark eyes as he held my chin in one thin hand and plied tweezers to my eyebrows until the tears blinded me.

 

Just as Dace said, there was no interest in me as an individual, only my aesthetic value. It was titillating and vaguely demeaning… but not necessarily in a bad way. My head was turned back and forth, the tiny tufts in front of my ears trimmed cleanly, any unevenness in my hair quickly corrected. Without a word, Johnster nodded in satisfaction before gathering his tools and going over to where Dace was toweling off.

 

“Would you like a trim?” The woman the others called Sally, asked into the quiet.

 

“Absolutely,” Dace smiled and tossed her towel to Sally and allowed Johnster in close. It was fascinating to watch the man doing the same routine on Dace that he had just finished with me. That was when I got a chance to get a good look at the large and elaborate tattoos on her back, just below her shoulder blades. A life-sized ace of diamonds card sat partially on another card, face down with a pattern in black and red that I was guessing was the symbols of the four card suits. Opposite it was a large red diamond cradling what seemed to be two scarlet chess pieces. A small blood-red rose nestled in the stark tendons near her Achilles tendon and there was a smaller diamond on her chest, over her heart.

 

“There are four really heavy hitters in the leather community,” Dace spoke without looking at me. It was eerie how she could perceive things others rarely could. “Or at least our corner of it. Each of them adopted one of the suits from the deck of playing cards. I once belonged to the Red Queen, the Queen of Diamonds. She loves chess and that’s why I bear the king and queen.” How did she know I was curious? Ah hell, how did the woman ever seem to know what she knew? “The Red Queen resides in San Francisco and traditionally oversees the west coast. The Lady Heartsblood is the keeper of Las Vegas, and oversees the central southern half, Silverback, the King of Clubs, the central northern and KC, the Queen of Swords, or Spades, is New York and the east coast.”

 

Something was nagging me. A memory. A small tattoo on Jo’s neck… matching ones on Michael and her packmates. Now Pony spoke up, prodding me towards the hose. “Michael, who we know better as Fenris in the past, has inherited the east coast. She’s now the King of Swords and an extremely powerful player. She’s also one of the finest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. You fell into good company.” Warm water cascaded over my chilled skin while I pondered all this new information.

 

“The Suits had a falling out three years ago,” Dace began again while Johnster continued his work. “And the chaos in Chicago allowed me an opportunity to try and close the gap. These people are old friends and shouldn’t be apart, no matter how good or how lousy the reasons. See, me, Michael, Karen and Tiny here were the first four aces the Suits marked.”

 

“Aces?” I asked quietly as Pony shooed me to the big bath.

 

“The aces,” Tiny’s bass rumble slid through the warm quiet of the room. “Are the chosen ones of the Suits. We are their greatest accomplishments, their most prized pupils. Bane Shidhe and Fenris were the other two. There are other aces now, but we were the first. Only I remain a Sub, at the feet of my Master. The others have moved on from subservience.”

 

It was a piece of information that intrigued me about Dace, not to mention Michael and Karen. None of them would have struck me as people who got off on being a Bottom. But then again… Jo did, and Jo was one of the strongest people I knew. A sudden realization struck me. By giving up control, it was like a vacation from responsibility in a safe zone. Jo had tried to explain it to me numerous times, but I think I was just now starting to really understand.

 

“I fell out of the life gradually at first, then cut myself off shortly before the Suits fell apart,” Dace admitted as she turned beneath Johnster’s direction and watched me with those intent blue eyes. “Now I’ve fallen back into it suddenly. Tonight will be the first time that the Suits have been together in three years. This is basically a very sensitive diplomatic reception, leather style. I chose you for exotic appeal and because I wanted you to see the best of the Scene.”

 

“Okay,” I said seriously. “I’m sold. I’ll help impress your friends.”

 

++ Pony ++

 

Well, Dobie was as good as her word, hardly uttering a squeak as we continued to fuss over her. The bath relaxed tense muscles that I worked out further on the massage table. The thick, neutral almond oil brought out a warm, deep golden tone to her flawless skin. When she tensed up as I kneaded her round ass, I smacked her hard and laughed at her glare. “Stop your growling and squirming, willya? You are not my type. This is business, and only a bit of pleasure, strictly for aesthetic value. I’m one of the token straight girls, Dobie.” Her skeptical look was to be expected, as I could hardly look more the dykey stereotype. “Yep, married for fifteen years to my construction-worker husband, quite contentedly I might add, and mother of two. The Amazons keep me around because I’m no-nonsense and I’m good with the nervous newbies that come in here. It’s a mom thing. On that note, do what I say or I’ll spank you for real.”

 

Dace chuckled throatily from the next table, where Sal was rubbing down her lanky frame. “She will too. And from that one it’s a punishment with no release at the end.”

 

Tiny added his own deep rumble of amusement from nearby where two of the other Amazons had agreed to oil his gleaming skin. Mumbling something under her breath, Dobie finally subsided, only tensing when I ran my hands over taboo places. By keeping my touch doctorly, she got through it with no further incident.

 

“Next phase,” I sing-songed to the three and they were covered in fluffy terrycloth robes and thick socks. “Oh, and Dace, Steph and Jo commandeered your boots, but they damn well better have them in that ballroom within the half hour. If we head up there now, we can get you three prepped.”

 

“Glad to see those things still have their magic,” the blonde smirked and I chuckled. Ah, the legendary power of Leonacouer’s boots. The ballroom was most of the third floor of the living building beside the Staff and Scroll. Keeping the most exclusive events out of the main club was a lesson we had learned many, many years ago. Crowd control was as tight as a White House function at these shindigs. We prided ourselves on our discretion for our clients. Those that did not, fell out of the game very quickly. I hadn’t been to the ballroom since this morning and the change was amazing.

 

“Magnificent,” I chuckled and Mel grinned at me. “This looks totally convincing.”

 

“Nice to know I haven’t lost my touch,” she smiled and gestured expansively at the cavernous room. It had been dressed up as an old-world casino, with dark wood walls and massive, carved tables where traditional gambling games would be played. There were hints of the modern here and there, in the stainless steel gleam of appliances and the bondage corner at the far end. But the monstrous bar was what truly impressed me in it’s retro-modern flare. And everywhere was subtle tribute to the Four Suits.

 

“They’re gonna flip. Hey doc, can you come lend your expertise on getting the centerpieces set up?”

 

“Certainly. The tables are behind the curtain over there. We figured it would keep the area clean and make for a great unveiling. There’s easy access to the kitchen back there as well.”

 

“You thought of everything.”

 

“Don’t I always,” Mel sniffed haughtily and I laughed. Being in the leather Scene stretched a person’s imagination and boundaries. Even being exclusively on the business end of things, I had been inspired in my time. These tables were one of my greatest contributions. Even if they didn’t get used much. “So, I had an idea when Jane told me that Dobie here was part of the evening’s festivities.”

 

“Oh?” The conversation was deliberately ignoring the three in the robes. It was psychological prepping for the evening of being objects, not individuals.

 

“I’ll get it started and we can decide if it’s cheesy or sexy.”

 

“Sounds good. Tiny, the right, Dace, you hang here for a moment, Dobie, you go with Mel.” It seemed as though Dobie was finally getting a clue how these things worked, for she went to Mel without a sound. Good girl.

 

++ Mel ++

 

The pretty brunette stood quietly while I silently judged her build and weight, the spots to accentuate. She was nicely muscled, particularly in the upper body, while remaining definitively curvy and feminine. “Hey, Pony, I think we should change things a bit, now that I’ve seen Dobie here.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Let’s make her dessert. The fondue’ll be better for someone experienced at this, so we’ll use Dace. And the nyotaimori will be perfect with Tiny’s coloring.”

 

“You’re right,” Pony grinned. “Dace still in the middle?”

 

“Definitely. I love the color contrast theme. Up on the table, Dobie, on your back, up on your elbows, knees up. Think gynecological exam.” The woman startled and I chuckled while patting her cheek. “Kidding. You’re only on display. No one will touch the goodies, we promise. Well… not in the ways that are freaking you out. Up you go.” While she did as I demanded, I yanked out the props from beneath the table. It was a bin full of what looked like furniture pieces mixed up with doctor’s tools. Or maybe dentists…

 

Dobie was squirming around on the thinly padded, black terry-cloth covered table. “Right in the middle, good.” I caught a flash of six-pack abs that would give my baby a run for her money as Dobie assumed the position I’d charged her with. Another flinch rippled through her as I rested a feather-soft hand on her abdomen. “Are you okay?”

 

Debating with herself about answering, Dobie relented when I nodded that it was okay. “Nervous.”

 

“Can you do this?” I deliberately used my doctor-with-scared-kid voice. Another moment passed thoughtfully before Dobie eyed me soberly.

 

“I could leave?”

 

“Dobie,” I explained patiently. “No one is keeping you here against your will, not even that stupid bet with the loudmouth lioness over there.” Dace snorted expressively and I ignored her. “If you’re freaked, you can leave anytime.” She still seemed torn down the middle, so I adopted a wheedling tone. “Be a damn shame though. You three are all gorgeous and what we’re going to do to you will blow your mind away.” The slow flush started beneath my hand and crawled up her belly and chest. I couldn’t help but chuckle, “that could be arranged as well. I assure you that there would be no shortage of volunteers. What, with your good looks and that guard dog hover you do so well. Not to mention hanging out as Michael’s left hand!” The flush deepened, and I could feel her body temperature rise against my palm. Bet she was dripping by now. Clearing her throat, Dobie spoke in a voice that was an odd combination of aroused and obstinate.

 

“If she can do it, I can do it.”

 

“That’s the spirit! Hey, Dace, be careful. The guard dog here is hot on your heels.”

 

Dace only raised an eyebrow and smiled warmly.

 

++ Olivia ++

 

This was insane, but I seemed to have resigned myself to it. There was no arguing that I was fiercely turned on, the ache growing miserable under Mel’s gentle hand. She had the same coloring as Jo, with inky hair and bright blue eyes, but so tall! A winning grin spiced with something almost bashful caught my attention. “I know this sounds silly, but could you tense up again? I kinda have a thing for muscles like these on women.”

 

I was hardly surprised that I did it without thinking. My physical condition was a source of discipline and pride to me, and it felt nice to be admired for all the hard work. Mel sighed happily as my abdomen defined itself into a checkerboard of powerful muscles.

 

“Mmm, that’s nice. Thanks, Dobie, I owe you one.”

 

Owed me one?

 

Back to business now, Mel placed a thick wedge of very firm foam wrapped in what felt like towels beneath my arched body. I was grateful, as my arms had been growing tired. Muttering to herself, the cushion was poked and prodded at until it supported me at the perfect level to get almost all of the pressure off of my elbows. Now my neck was getting tired, but she solved that problem too. Mel showed me a strange-looking contraption that looked like three padded fingers at the end of an articulated metal arm. It cupped my skull perfectly, and was adjusted so that my head leaned back almost parallel to the table.

 

“Excellent,” Mel grinned. “Now, you’re probably wondering exactly what the hell we’re doing, right?”

 

I nodded, not sure if I should speak.

 

“We’re going to set up a desert table here, with a few specialty items resting on your skin until they’re gifted to the Suits. I think I’ll sprinkle you with powdered sugar for contrast and Pony has some wild idea she hasn’t explained to me yet. We aren’t planning on using any bondage on you,” when I went to protest, she fended me off with a raised hand. “Not just because you’re a newbie. We’re trussing up Dace in black and Tiny and white. Remember the contrast theme?” I nodded, mildly taken aback that they considered tying me into position… and even more taken aback that I was a bit disappointed they weren’t gonna do it. “Having you naked will be even more contrast. You’ll be in this position for hours, so go use the bathroom, clean up good, get your muscles loosened up and we’ll get you ready to go.”

 

I did as she said.

 

Only in the bathroom… did I realize that I had been so far sucked into what was going on around me.

 

That I hadn’t grabbed the robe.

 

++ Jane ++

 

Goddesses and Devils! I couldn’t remember the last time I was so stressed out. This was a big event like a party at the White House would be a big event. Only my VIPs were all from the leather Scene. There were a million details neatly falling into place.

 

And a million things that could go wrong.

 

Mel had been adamant that I come to the ballroom, so I sheepishly began to delegate out and sent up a prayer that nothing serious would go wrong. My tribe rallied like a war party, scattering to a thousand tasks, and drafting others in. I grabbed Steph as she rushed by, nearly upsetting her to the concrete. “You be there at seven forty-five,” I said in my most serious voice. “I’m not doing this without you, got it?”

 

For a moment, Steph just looked stressed and argumentative, but our long time together won out. “I’ll be there. Count on it.”

 

“I am!” Now I was in the living sectors, still flinging instructions like arrows as I stalked through my domain. The ballroom brought me to a shocked halt. “Holy shit…”

 

“I take it that you approve?” Mel’s sultry voice chuckled softly, and her familiar arms wrapped tight around me.

 

“Wow… Mel, this is amazing.” And it was. The ponderous elegance of the dark woods and lush black velvet hangings had transformed the vast ballroom into a completely different old-world elegance. Somehow, Mel and her crew had even managed to drape black from the walls to the half-dozen massive chandeliers, making the hundreds of crystals glitter magnificently. Everywhere was tasteful tribute to the ancient art of the gamble, and more specifically, to our revered elders, our teachers and mentors and family. “Gramps and the others are gonna shit.”

 

Chuckling in self-satisfaction, Mel gave me a deep kiss and I was happy to follow her towards more of the ever-present black velvet. Oh, the surprise it concealed…

 

“Dayum,” was all I could breathe as I ogled Dace and Tiny. Both of them were adorning Pony’s famous display tables, and the décor was already appearing around them. “They look great, who’s on the third?”

 

“That pretty brunette that’s been shadowing Fenris. This is what Dace wanted for winning the boxing match.”

 

The tall blonde smirked, but only faintly. She didn’t break training, merely lying back against the padding that held her body in position. It was so weird to have her acting all Subby. Then I saw the low chrome railings outlining Dace and Tiny’s bodies and realized why I had been called in. “Do I have time?”

 

Mel stepped over to the table where Dace lay quietly and pulled out spools of black cotton rope. “Be quick about it, babe. Just these two. I’ll get your clothes and be back in a few minutes.”

 

Grumbling to myself, I went for the black rope sitting at Dace’s hip. “You ready?”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

So weird to have her acting like this! I had a gift with rope that went way, way, way back. Letting myself get lost in the intricacies of this ancient tool, I began weaving a web of bondage over Dace’s calm body. I was dimly aware of Pony nearby, talking with someone, and then clattering on the once-empty third table. Mel returned as I worked my way down Dace’s smooth frame. I could have gotten far more elaborate than I was, but there was no time. All I was doing was accentuating the pose. Lengths over the arms, no time to run the line through the rails, so I just tied it back into itself, letting the loops arch out like lolling tongues. There was no room for error as I moved along, for the staff was setting up the food preparations in my wake. Even as sweat collected on my skin, the intricate work relaxed me enormously. Not to mention turned me on like mad. Soon each of Dace’s limbs were immobile in my webs and I laid the deliberately fluffed up cut end near the diamond tattoo on her chest. It was a bit of a signature of my work. Pleased with the effect, I kissed my old buddy’s nose and rushed to repeat the macramé on Tiny’s much larger frame.

 

++ Pony ++

 

While Dobie had cleaned up and worked off a bit of nervous energy, I’d yanked on my uniform to cut down on time loss. It was a strange uniform, to be sure, but I loved it. Each of us adopted into the large family of Amazons earned the pleasure of designing our own look. There was an endless variety of materials, colors and styles, but the theme was unmistakable. We were all too aware that it made us look like Xena or Hercules extras, but there were far worse things to be compared to. Intricately stamped, painted and dyed leather fashioned into skirts, loincloths, gauntlets, bras and elaborate wooden masks with trailing plumes of leather laces, raffia, feathers, whatever described the woman within. Various weapons of the trade adored many of us, and a couple dozen of us carried things more deadly. I was all too aware of Dobie’s gun in my pouch, and the similar one I carried high on the inside of my thigh.

 

I was rigging up my idea as Dobie padded back in, looking more relaxed and oddly sheepish. “I got a little sweaty in the gym,” she told me quietly and I grinned. Boy, I bet her oiled, naked body had given a few visceral thrills!

 

“No problem, it’ll make you taste better,” I chuckled and she blinked owlishly and flushed. “Get back up there when you’re ready, and let’s get you finished up. Time’s a wastin’.” It ended up looking better than I thought, twin long lengths of bendable copper pipe twisted into a double arch. Through each of them had been run thick surgical tubing that plugged into pumps beneath the table that in turn ran into a pair of very special vats. There were a couple of catch basins I had to get positioned once Dobie was comfortable, but I think my wacky idea was actually going to work. Dobie was looking curious and a little tentative as she settled. Remembering that she wasn’t really a Sub, I grinned, “shall I explain while we finish?”

 

“Please, Pony.”

 

“Oh, you’re getting better at this game, guard dog,” I praised at her respectful use of my title/name. “There are two more of the padded props here, that will nestle into the outside curve of your knee, so that you’re not trying to hold this position. Good, they fit nicely. You let me know if you start feeling stiff and we’ll give you a little stretch, okay?”

 

“Thank you, Pony.”

 

“Very good. Now, this idea may or may not work.” Four little alligator clips, usually used as really evil nipple clamps, had been mounted at the end of slightly flexible heavy-gauge wire. I rubber-banded them to the pole propping up Dobie’s legs so that they curled around her thighs to point at her crotch. “This was inspired, I tell ya.” My chuckling tone relaxed Dobie and she eyed me curiously as I whipped out the icing on the cake. “Dental dam. Surgical quality latex. Now watch.” The alligator clips bit down on the corners of the dam, creating a little semi-transparent window over Dobie’s dark pubes. It even gave a measure of privacy, unless a person ducked down to eyeball her goodies. Comprehension was dawning as I reached for the control switch and clicked it on.

 

It worked perfectly.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	21. Winning Streak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Four Suits are honored in appropriate fashion, and we find out what the hell nyotaimori is! Then Catherine meets her elder double…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Anastasia/Tessa
> 
> Notes: Bless your heart Lex, for the Nyotaimori idea. You ROCK!

++ Sylvia ++

 

I was pale and queasy with fear and nerves. Luckily, the ghostly look worked for me. In the week since Tarzan’s official phone call to invite my personage to a reception in the Four Suits’ honor, I had been extremely busy. All of my affairs were in good hands while I was gone, my pets would be fed, instructions had been left in the correct ears.

 

That had been days ago, and since then I’d been frantically busy. There was a man I knew, an artiste the likes of which were extremely few and far between. A great, hairy boar of a male that under any other circumstances would disgust me. In his great ham hock hands, leather would write the most extraordinary poetry. From buttery lingerie to hardened sheets of armor, he could make animal hide into anything. He had truly outdone himself this time, and the custom chopper I’d commissioned in payment for this and a handful of other outfits was money well spent.

 

It was thin kidskin, nearly as supple as fabric, dyed in the most exquisite shade of fresh, whole blood. Nearly every square inch was delicately patterned in my diamonds, a geometric tapestry that had been accomplished only after the costume was complete. I still couldn’t figure out exactly how the pattern had been put on, not a stamp, and not layers scraped away, but seemingly a combination of the two techniques. The diamond pattern thinned and lengthened at my narrow points, the diamonds growing thick, almost square, over my round places. It was a brilliant effect, and very subtly done, helping exaggerate my figure. The cornerstone was a classic whale-bone corset, so severe that I was in serious pain just wearing it. Built as part of it was a severe, high collar, the likes of which Morticia Addams would be proud of. A flowing skirt, cut high on the hip, knee-high boots with a six-inch spike heel and elbow-length kidskin gloves completed the outfit, all of it matching the color and pattern. My wild red hair was slicked back like a skullcap, to explode into chaos from where it was bound at the back of my head. Make-up was stark and carefully done to exaggerate the sharpness of my features.

 

Racheal was brilliant in a sheath of the same color and pattern, laced from knees to neck so tightly that her skin was indented by the cords. The glorious kick of it was, that there were no openings for her arms, they were laced right into the outfit, crisscrossed in the small of her back. Her heels were similar to mine, only chunky.

 

Seated across from me, my right hand Dom tried to rein in a smirk at the intensity of what was going on around us. The private jet sent from Jesse was finally ending its long taxi and it was nearly time to go onstage. Salix had been an unexpected addition to my tiny inner circle. She had appeared in my clubs years ago and made quite the impression on the old guard. She was very much an opposite to me, yet that had somehow turned into an asset. She was a sarcastic, world-weary, generation X Goth girl that was as talented as she was arrogant. Her arrogance appealed to me, and we had actually become a fabulous team over the last few years. She had been a great strength to me during my self-imposed exile from the other Suits. Over time, she had even taken on a few of my aspects, like her look going from street-waif shabby chic to something sleeker and classier.

 

She proudly wore the Jack of Diamonds in several discrete places on her skin-tight black costume cut in a strangely archaic style. It was the only color on her black leathers, so black they almost had the same slight blue tinge as her carefully dyed hair. All the dark was startling contrast to her Goth-pale face and blood-red lips. While I generally abhorred the Goth look as somewhat immature and overdone, she made it work. Beneath that sweet, pale face was a black heart, a wicked imagination and a depth of ruthless sadism that warmed my heart. Salix had real potential to become a replacement, for she was an appealing combination of kinky, evil, social and pragmatic. And that sweet, girl-next-door smile so startling in her ghost-painted face was a really nice weapon as well, particularly when she sported one of her many sets of hand-crafted predatory teeth. The vampire bent to her persona suited her well, oddly not cheesy as it was for most. Perhaps Dace would remember the girl…

 

Her favorite companion was a big man she called only Puppy. He was a handsome fellow with unkempt dark hair and a sad dog face that lent nicely to a sub. He was dressed like a Chippendale dancer with a kinky twist. The leather pants were thick and as tight as possible, his masculine equipment cradled in paper-thin kidskin that showed off the intricate bondage she had on him this evening. Heavy leather straps crisscrossed his strong chest, connecting a large ring on the front. His job tonight was to guard Rachael, ensuring that she didn’t fall due to her dangerous bondage.

 

The plane had finally stopped and the three of them looked at me expectantly. “It is time, My Queen,” Salix intoned somberly, all hints of her usual sarcasm absent. She stood and formally offered me a gallant hand. Treating her as the vassal she was, I let the young woman draw me to my feet, watching as she fell in a half-step behind me, on my right.

 

Haughtily drawing myself up and ignoring the nervous quiver in knees and belly, I swept down the short flight of steps in the jet’s entry hatch and stepped onto Chicago’s tarmac. Three figures waited there; Cheetah, exquisite in her finest Amazon leathers, Brann, dapper in his 1700’s British military reds and much to my surprise, Bane Shidhe, in her customary biker gear, polished up to a sheen. In flawless unison, they bowed deeply before Cheetah stepped forward. “Red Queen, the Queen of Diamonds,” she intoned with absolute seriousness, “Greetings and welcome from the Suit of Clubs.”

 

“Jack of Clubs,” I returned the formal greeting, liking the remembered taste of the ritual. “The hospitality of the Suit of Clubs is recognized by the Suit of Diamonds.”

 

“Please ma’am,” Cheetah continued, gesturing in the direction of an inky limousine and matching town-car. “Transportation awaits you.”

 

Imagine my surprise when the door was opened to reveal that my eyes had not deceived me, this was indeed Jesse’s personal car. Trying to conceal my renewed bout of nervous butterflies, I climbed into the great indent of my old friend’s body, where there was room enough for two of me. Salix was next, and Puppy carefully handed Racheal in to kneel at my feet while he did the same with his Mistress. Cheetah took the seat closest to the door as the divider between the two sections began to drop. Brann was driving, Bane seated beside him. The towering red-head twisted to look at me with solemn emerald eyes. “It’s very good to see you again, Red Queen.” Any implied censure in her tone was belied with a warm smile and I began to feel distinctly better about this monumental event.

 

++ Anastasia ++

 

I was running out of time, but the fall of this gorgeous and strange outfit Tessa had thought up was giving me fits. Humming placidly to herself, my sweet girl futzed with lengths of tiny silk ribbon to improve the fit. The sweet, faintly discordant sound grounded me with its very familiarity. A quick, affectionate, rough rub along her ear earned a purring note and I debated a quickie to relax me. A glance at the clock ruined that idea and I sighed heavily. The sound made Tessa rub against my hand like a kitty and I allowed the intimacy. “Finished Mistress,” she said calmly, but made no move to stand. Curious, I strode to the mirror and eyed myself critically. When Tessa had first come up with this idea, I had been skeptical at best, but it appeared that my slave once again knew my body better than I.

 

It was a skin-tight black body suit that would have left me self-conscious of my aging body, if not for the startling sheath over the top. It was a exquisite second skin of loosely-woven cotton lace, handmade here in the United States and lovingly dyed the color of fresh blood. What impressed me about the lace, was that someone had managed to oh-so-subtly incorporate my upside-down heart into the pattern. It was quite lovely and surprisingly soft. I’d decided on the body suit only for color contrast, and to pay tribute to black. My hair was loosely done up, makeup warm, yet severe. I very much looked the disciplinarian Mommy of the Scene, the role I had lovingly played for all of these many years. The nervous, queasy expression lurking in my eye almost ruined the effect. There was so much riding on tonight, so much history both good and bad.

 

“Where is that damn…” I began murmuring irritably when there was a knock on my chamber door. “Enter!” My bark made the door swing open hastily and I was pleasantly surprised at the figure standing demurely there. “Sara, darling, come in. This is a delightful surprise.”

 

“Lady Heartsblood,” the brunette said respectfully and stepped inside. Her arms were full of a expansive drape of the finest silk available. I knew what it was, but wanted to know how she was faring first. “It is good to see you again.”

 

Taking her chin in my hand, I looked critically at the slender woman, noting the positive changes in her. “How has Leonacouer been treating you? Imagine my shock when my silly gorilla handed you over to that beast.”

 

“She’s been wonderful, My Lady.”

 

That took me aback and my expression must have shown it, because Sara smiled faintly. “So you’ve enjoyed the former Ace of Diamonds?”

 

“Yes ma’am. She has been an exquisite teacher.” The flush on her cheeks and the dreaminess in dark eyes spoke volumes. So the irrepressible charm of that mercurial blonde minx had ensnared yet another.

 

“Is your companion as besotted with her?” I sniped archly and stopped short. The look on Sara’s face was ill-concealed shock, and I’m certain Tessa echoed it behind me. I had never liked Dace, finding her arrogant and irrepressible, the out-of-control wildness boiling far to close to the surface. There was no doubt that the woman was intensely charismatic and engagingly competent at whatever she set her mind to, but I preferred my companionship to be firmly under my control. Dace never was, not even when I had her tied up like a Christmas ham and screaming for mercy. Like having a trained lioness on a chain, I was never certain of compliance or a face full of needle-sharp claws.

 

If I were completely honest, I was perhaps faintly jealous of the sisterly ease she had always shared with Karen. Since they had met as wild teens, the girls had been littermates in every sense of the word except blood. Shaking off my ruminations, I gave Sara an apologetic look.

 

“Forgive an old woman’s temper. I have far too much history here tonight. It’s overwhelming. Help me dress.” From apology to direct order in one breath, that was more like me. Sara held the voluminous silk open and it draped about me in waves of weightless extravagance. The silk had been hand-dyed carefully in harsh geometric patterns ranging from organic leaves to the ever-present upside-down heart in my favored jeweled style. Red and black, highlighted only slightly with splashes of white, the wild kimono-style robe was everything I’d hoped for.

 

Tessa was resplendent in nothing more than an intricate series of whisper-fine silver chains suspended from red leather garters at throat, bicep, and knee. The fantastic tattoos adorning her flawless skin were costume enough. A wilderness of dangerous plants climbed her thighs, over that perfect ass and curled all over her lower back to vanish beneath her long hair. Strangler fig, climbing lava-red roses, variegated ivy, pale mistletoe, all highlighted a delicate orchid and an exquisiteClerodendrum, my favorite plant, called the Bleeding Heart. The artwork was worth a fortune and I adored admiring it. The chains from her collar fell to frame my symbol that decorated her heart. Tessa’s was unique in that the inverted heart was the body of a closed padlock, symbolizing that she was mine, body and soul. I wore a matching key in my skin, on the very same place.

 

“We’re ready,” I pronounced after adjusting a few of the chains decorating Tessa and kissing her fondly. “Have the other Suits arrived?” There was no response from Sara, who seemed enthralled with Tessa’s elaborately tattooed skin. At least my pet had the self-control not to preen for once, because I was not up to disciplining her right now. I was far to stressed. “Sunshine!” That sharp bark made Sara double-take and flush rosy.

 

“I’m sorry, My Lady. Umm… The Red Queen will be here any moment and KC is only moments behind,” she stammered and swallowed hard, dropping her eyes to the floor. I had only a moment before I had to go greet my old friends, but I knew that Sara needed some mentoring. Additionally, it was a good distraction from my own fretting.

 

“Child,” I soothed softly, again cupping her chin so that she shyly met my eyes. “Don’t forget that no one will judge you here. If you come to me in Las Vegas once all of this is over, I can help you understand what you are feeling and experiencing. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” she whispered and smiled the sweetest, most heart-breaking lovely smile. “Thank you, My Lady.”

 

“My pleasure, Sunshine. Escort me?”

 

“My pleasure, My Lady.”

 

++ Jesse ++

 

Things had happened so fast… All of these visitors from my past, this lunatic loose in my city, a reception the likes of which had never been attempted before. Never this elaborate in this short a time. I was so proud of my staff that I could cry. Or was the strangling lump in my throat just nerves from who would soon walk through those double doors? Seeing Anastasia had been weird enough, but we’d kept in touch long after losing Sylvia and KC. Now, all of that was going to change.

 

“I feel like I’m getting married or something,” I grumbled petulantly and Jane chuckled in sympathy. How the hell the woman made an intricately tooled leather halter, loincloth and boots look so formal was completely beyond me. Not that I was surprised by the phenomenon any longer. This girl was my right hand, my successor, one of my dearest friends, and a daughter to me. She wore her Queen of Clubs proudly embroidered in the heavy hide of her long bracers. Exquisitely decorated feathers and fetishes hung within the horsehair mane from her elaborately carved wooden mask, and the leather garters nestled in the hollow of sculpted upper arms sported more feathers and decorative bits. She was every inch the Amazon Warrior-Queen.

 

I felt rather plain by comparison, which suited me just fine tonight. My boys had outdone themselves with the elegant simplicity of this costume. Leather pants that gleamed like pvc, a snotty-formal silk shirt that was as blindingly white as it was purringly soft against my skin. The vest my stable and the Amazons had made me was the centerpiece and I was delighted with the gift. Heavy leather with chunky clasps instead of a zipper, it was decorated with the themes so important to me. My life as a lover of American motorcycles, the POW MIA symbol to remember my fellow soldiers, the King of Clubs near my heart and in the small of my back. Tiny had spent two days shining my old boots until they were mirror-smooth. All and all, I felt very appreciated and that gave me strength in this stressful time. Jane had even gifted me with a tiny, spotted pheasant feather chained to an ear cuff and I was outrageously pleased with the simple, meaningful gift.

 

Quite suddenly, Mel materialized at my elbow, resplendent in a simple black gown and a chunky silver necklace that was stunning on her. “They’re here, sir.”

 

“Thank you, dear,” I murmured distractedly and was unaccountably comforted by her quick touch on my arm. I sure as hell didn’t feel like my usual butch self tonight…

 

++ Jane ++

 

It was like they planned it.

 

As the Red Queen swept into the room like an arctic breeze, Lady Heartsblood entered from a side door and the entire room froze. It was like a slow-motion sequence. I was half expecting them to draw six-shooters and duke it out right here. Sighing in exasperation at my elders, I stepped closer and pitched my voice to fill the room without shouting. “Welcome, houses of red, the Suit of Diamonds and the Suit of Hearts. The Suit of Clubs welcomes you to this honorable event.”

 

Fenris, thankfully, appeared at my elbow in that moment, and we went to our elders as escorts. A quick glance confirmed that Fen would take the strikingly tall Sylvia, offering a gallant arm that the red Dom settled a gauntleted hand on. That left me to flash a small, heartening grin at the Lady and offer my own arm. She squeezed the heavy bracer rather harder than I expected, but I was feeling the tension of the event myself, and I had far less riding on this than the four that had created our inner system of rank and formality.

 

“My thanks, Queen of Clubs,” Anastasia smiled thinly as I brought her to the magnificent high-backed oak chair, embroidered and carved with her symbol. I heard Sylvia say something similar to Fenris, just as a ripple of awareness went through the building.

 

Like the headliner at a sold-out rock concert, the curtains at the entryway were flung back by a small, imposing figure in jeans, a tooled leather vest and something that flashed lacy-girlie underneath. Behind her trailed a crack-military unit of Swords, dressed like shock troops from a sci-fi movie. Hard to believe the woman was sixty-three!

 

Bane took a step forward, even as Jesse broke formality and rushed forward with an excited, “KC!” At the last second, he pulled up at her grin and fidgeted like a nervous schoolboy. My mentor and our head matriarch had always shared a special bond.

 

“I’ve missed you, boy,” KC chuckled throatily and she was swept up in a big bear hug. None of the Swords so much as twitched from their rigid postures and I admired their silent threat and control. Neither of the red women had seated themselves, and Fen and I wisely remained standing sentinel beside them.

 

“Welcome,” Jesse finally remembered to say, still holding KC’s tiny frame against his large one. “From the Suit of Clubs.”

 

“Well met, Suit of Clubs,” KC acknowledged with her usual mischief. “The Suit of Spades are honored to attend this event.”

 

Then I heard the gasp, and broke protocol to glance over. Yup, I was right.

 

++ KC Koloski ++

 

Something in the unexpected sound made me look over. There was Bane, looking as scrumptious as ever, a hand cupped around each of the two women flanking her. The whip-slender dark one had both hands clapped over her mouth and her eyes were owl-round. Karen was perversely amused, mixed with a healthy dose of shock.

 

It was like looking into a mirror.

 

Jesse let me down from our hug, even as my eyes widened. “Extraordinary, eh?” My old pal whispered almost soundlessly and I shook off my astonishment. This was no time to indulge in the shock of my much-younger doppelganger. So I forced myself to wave my Sword Unit off and formally took Jesse’s arm to be led to the table. The look on Sylvia’s face when I grinned warmly was priceless and she smiled somewhat queasily back. Anastasia was much warmer, though she too, looked stressed. Tessa carefully kept her nerves and delight masked, as did the pair flanking Sylvia. Bravo. At least discipline hadn’t waned in my absence from my younger peers. Grace’s eyes danced with warmth and humor, mirrored in Jane’s expressive, yet strangely flat gaze.

 

“Honored guests,” Jesse intoned somberly as he deposited me beside a gorgeously carved chair bearing some of my favored symbols and Bane smoothly took his place so that he could move to his own chair. “Welcome to this extraordinary event, the re-birth of the Four Suits as a cohesive family of darkness!” Sylvia’s Goth girl shadow moved to stand beside him and I recognized her with a start. Looks like Salix had finally grown into her own! The moment of quiet grew to something that was almost awkward and Grace made a vaguely exasperated sound and raised her hands to begin a solemn applause. Jane, Salix and Bane picked up the rhythm instantly and my heart warmed. The pleasure on my contemporaries’ faces was worth the unexpected applause. Bless that protégé of mine for always knowing just what to do.

 

As somber quiet again fell, smooth classical music wafted in, and serving slaves minced in on nervous feet. Karen, drawn into a perfect parade rest, gestured neutrally with her right hand and a silver-tray bearing slave materialized there, head bowed. Not meeting my eye, the tall woman offered the delicate goblet, perfectly balanced on two kidskin-sheathed fingertips. “Champagne ma’am,” she clipped out in a formal tone.

 

“Thank you, Bane Shidhe,” I replied just as formally. “As you were.”

 

Each of our seconds played out similar interactions with my peers around the table. I watched Grace’s behavior like a hawk, checking for any flaws in her. There were none. Sylvia took the goblet and Grace stepped smoothly to the edge of the woman’s personal space, holding perfect military posture. Excellent.

 

Steeling herself, Sylvia drew herself to her full, haughty bearing and raised her glass. “A toast,” she spoke in a clear, icy tone, but I could hear the faintest tremor in her voice. “To the blessed relief that even I am capable of learning my lesson.” It was a terrific toast, and a strange way of apologizing that was all Sylvia. I’m sure that my grin reflected both Jesse and Anastasia’s.

 

“Hear, hear,” we chimed in.

 

“To my dearest friends,” Jesse added in softly after we had sampled the fine bubbly wine. “How I’ve missed you and how glad I am that we’re together again.” There was a part of me that wanted to tease him for being such a schmoopy old softie, but I could feel the happy sting of tears myself.

 

Again we drank and it was Anastasia who next raised her glass. “To our reunion.”

 

Then I had to say something as the matriarch of the tribe. Every eye was on me and the old showman in me rose to the occasion. “To our past, our present and our future!”

 

There was applause again as I grinned at my smiling friends.

 

++ Jesse ++

 

As the unexpected clapping died down yet again, some hidden signal was sent and the heavy black drapes kitty-corner to Anastasia and I suddenly vibrated and began to roll back. “A gift,” Jane announced formally. “For our mentors and respected elders.”

 

Now, I knew that the woman had been up to something, after all, she’d stolen Tiny out from under my nose, but this was exquisite. Tiny, Dace and a woman I didn’t yet recognize had been propped up on their elbows in identical poses, with carefully dressed food and paraphernalia arrayed around them with enough skill to bring a tear to any chef’s eye. Black rope bondage decorated Dace’s pale skin, contrasting with her bright hair and the spread pink of her pussy. And Tiny! Goodness me, had he ever looked so positively edible? White rope decorated his magnificent frame and a jeweled ring glittered at the head of his cock where it nearly touched his belly. There was a fountain of sorts rigged over the strange woman, and a thick, golden liquid oozed out of one nozzle to flow to the square of latex stretched over her dark pubes. From there, it drained into a copper basin. The other was a thick, dark brown I would bet my best leathers was chocolate. It too drained into a copper basin between the woman’s feet.

 

Gesturing gallantly for the other Suits to proceed me to the tables, we moved closer. A wonderful mix of warm food smells greeted us as we came close enough to see the more mundane part of this gift. Delicate fruit tarts like multi-colored sculptures done by a master’s hand sat delicately on the bronzy skin of the stranger I now recognized as one of Fenris’ crew. Powdered sugar tapped delicately over her was a delightful contrast to her coloring and fine musculature. There was a selection of confections and fruit arrayed near her upraised knees, and I confirmed that the mystery fountain was indeed warmed honey from one tube and chocolate the other! Pony was hovering over the woman with a ‘no touch’ expression and I grinned. “Oh, this is terribly clever my dear!” She inclined her head gracefully at the compliment and remained close to the living desert tray.

 

“Nyotaimori,” Sylvia purred in appreciation, plucking a delicate piece of sushi from Tiny’s oiled skin. “How I adore naked sushi. Very nice, boy.” My pride and joy smiled without smiling, bless his well-mannered heart. There were neatly rolled and cut sushi rolls of all the colors of the rainbow, as well as morsels of sashimi on their little pats of sticky rice. Sauces, additional servings and little cups of traditional drink nestled amid the green around his dark body. Yummy!

 

Dace’s contribution to the meal was also very intriguing… There were puddles and trickles of colorful sauces, artfully held in place by the contours of her skin as well as the more solid parts of the presentation. There were colorful nibbles of bread and pita, as well as some lightly cooked slivers of vegetables and meat. The fondues of broth and cheese were almost an afterthought.

 

It was going to be a great night.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	22. Low Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dace apologizes for an old failure, making a unique sacrifice. The danger grows closer and closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: NC17. Dude, it don’t get any more NC17 than this!!! The subjects are kinky and fringe, so be warned
> 
> Pairings: Not really. Just smut involving Dace and others.

++ Anastasia ++

 

I was forced to admit that young Dace was magnificent in her intricate bondage, her slender frame exposed and decorated for other’s pleasure. And, even after all these years, still well-behaved. As a lifetime Mistress, I’d been satisfied that she’d been wet the entire time she had been restrained so thoroughly. She’d barely twitched when I’d slid a couple of fingers deep in her pussy to find out, before sampling the delicate tidbits that had been placed carefully on her belly and chest. Strangely, no one had tested her readiness throughout the banquet, and that struck me as odd.

 

But then again, most still associated Dace with Sylvia, and few were high enough on the food chain to touch was still commonly perceived as her property.

 

With that though in mind, I was only half-surprised when Dace came to me after the meal had been cleaned up. Freshly washed, and still sporting dull marks from the ropes, the blonde dropped gracefully to kneel just beside and slightly behind Tessa. The clear blue eyes that had only been raised far enough to keep her from tripping, were now focused firmly between her spread knees.

 

Too many years ago now, this fierce and willful creature had been sent to me by KC. Poised by her training from my old friend, Dace was calm and focused, but the smooth surface was shallow. I was the last one to train the girl, per my request. I wanted the polishing of the others on her before I dug deeper. Jesse had taught her to be handled by others, be it kindly or like livestock. She had been taught to behave for, as well as to pursue, what would become the Amazons, then just a tiny group. After that three months, she’d been sent to New York to study under KC’s hard hand.

 

Then I had honed that rigid, military-quality training into something elegant and refined. Like gently grinding a tongue of fire-hardened steel against a whetstone, I would sharpen and silver her. Dace was a bigger challenge than I had bargained on, for I couldn’t reward the girl in traditional ways. If not for the Tiger’s help to figure the chinks in Dace’s armor, I probably would have failed.

 

Just one more reason this enigmatic package was a burr beneath my saddle.

 

Despite that old, old irritation, I had to admit that her manners were still flawless. Damned if she didn’t even remember that particular pose I taught my slaves. Hands flat on the floor, back arched, head parallel to the floor. It was an exhausting position, particularly on the legs. As much as I was curious as to how long Dace could hold it after being tied up for so long, I was more curious why she had come to me.

 

“Tessa,” I spoke up suddenly and instantly that dark, ocean-blue gaze rose to mine.

 

“Yes My Lady?”

 

“I wish more of this fine, light honey mead of Pony’s, my pet. And please give me a few minutes alone.”

 

“Yes My Lady.”

 

Luckily for Tessa, she restrained herself from firing Dace a curious look, ignoring the pale woman completely. Now that were alone, of sorts, I focused my attention on Dace. When long moments passed as she didn’t so much as alter her breathing, I allowed her some relief. “What is you require so desperately, Leonacouer, that you would invade my privacy?”

 

The icy tone made Dace wince as she lowered herself until she was nearly kissing the hardwood floor. “Begging your mercy, Lady Heartsblood. I wished only to beg your forgiveness.”

 

Damn her for leaving me confused. “Explain.”

 

“I have failed as lifetime companion to the Red Queen. As she is your friend and peer, I feel it is necessary that I apologize to you.”

 

What a fascinating gesture. I had to admit that I was impressed. “So that’s it? You think that a simple apology releases you from such a drastic failure?”

 

This was a tough one. If she agreed, she would be arrogant, and worse, assuming things. If she disagreed, she was asking to be punished. Not that I wouldn’t mind tanning that fine, strawberry and cream complexion of hers. The woman’s skin was an artist’s palette, delightfully showing every bruise and welt.

 

“No one can release me from my failure but the Red Queen. But I can certainly try.”

 

She flinched when I stood, but didn’t move from her vulnerable position. “Your arrogance has eternally tired me, little girl. I abhor pride in a slave. Yet, you seem to be unable to resist being flippant and sarcastic, no matter how carefully you try and hide it.”

 

Discreetly balancing myself on a chair-back, I planted one foot on the back of her neck, feeling her forehead clonk lightly onto the hard floor. Tessa chose that moment to reappear and hand over my refreshed wine glass before fading away. Such a gem, that woman of mine was. I sipped, while feeling Dace breathe heavily beneath my shoe. Eying the golden liquid, I spoke conversationally, putting a tad more pressure on my new toy. “I think, perhaps, that I shall take strips from your worthless hide. After all, isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?”

 

Now I had her. No matter what was said now, I would beat her senseless. There was a long pause before Dace’s voice reached me, barely loud enough to be heard. “Yes, Lady Heartsblood.”

 

“That’s what I thought. Go to the horse and wait for me.”

 

“Yes, Lady Heartsblood.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

It had been surprisingly easy to fall back into this role. Padding across the room, I shivered in the air-conditioning. It was a little strange to be parading around naked, but this was old hat to me. As much as I wasn’t looking forward to what I knew Anastasia was going to do to me, but I knew that it would help pave the way to Sylvia’s forgiveness. Jane’s bondage had been proxy to Jesse, and after this was over, I’d hand myself off to Fenris before heading off to my old Mistress’ feet.

 

It was going to be a long, long night.

 

Anastasia was right, I shouldn’t be flippant, it made me appear arrogant and manipulative. She was also right that it was a stubborn part of my personality. The imminent beating would remind me to behave. The cat grumbled in confused irritation at this old game and I chuckled. These fringe mental and sexual games made little sense to her, that much I understood. But those extremes were also calming to both of us, that much we could both understand. Casting out with both hearing and smell, I zeroed in on the Coyote, warm and safe nearby. Sara was with her, with Bane hovering over them both. As much as part of me wanted to hide these extremes from them both, I knew that wouldn’t be fair.

 

Las Vegas wasn’t really that far from San Francisco. Right, Candace, just keep tellin’ yourself that…

 

With false calm, I draped myself on the padded horse, feeling its solidness beneath my chest and hips. Linking my hands at the back of my neck and straightening my legs away from my body as best I could, I waited.

 

There’s a strange state one reaches when you are forced to wait for what you know is about to happen. Making yourself a willing victim can be difficult for some. It was for me. I was a take-charge, hated-to-wait kinda gal and this behavior didn’t naturally sit well with me. Which is why, of course, I had been forced to do it constantly as a Sub. It built character.

 

As for the beating itself, that was a whole different skill. I didn’t habitually like pain, that would be just weird and destructive. However, causing me pain had a two-fold effect. It was a turn-on to my tormentor, when in context, like now. Secondly, my nerves and arousal cycle had been well-trained to turn this contextual pain to wet need. Shit, I’d been dripping ever since Olivia had used me a punching bag. With no sexual relief for a whole day, I was primed and ready to take whatever Anastasia could dish out.

 

Or so I hoped.

 

I was so lost in thought, that the first blow took me surprise. Jumping like a startled filly, I only just managed to keep myself on the padded horse. Damn, that stung!

 

“Thought that might get your attention,” the Lady drawled mockingly. The tip of her most famous weapon trailed stiff and narrow over my asscheeks. The things that this little woman could do with a narrow length of wood or bamboo was legendary. I was far to out of practice to identify the material on my skin, but I remembered how this was going to hurl like hell.

 

And this was only a switch. The nasty toys would follow this warm-up session.

 

“And what do you think that such a serious failure might merit, Leonacouer?”

 

Damn her… there was no answer to that question and she very well knew it. Forcing myself to not grit my teeth and to answer the question calmly, I replied, “whatever you see fit, Lady Heartsblood.”

 

“We’ll see,” was the cryptic reply. It was all the warning I had that the punishment was beginning.

 

Only a few stripes into the event and my skin was already starting to howl. It was a nasty, sharp stinging, like broken glass dragged over the skin to bring up the faintest line of blood. It was too fast to count and I knew I was in trouble.

 

Soon, I was a battlefield of burning stripes from tailbone to knees, the pain pulsing like fire under my skin. The burn dripped like molten glass to pool deep in my cunt, dripping and empty and needy. Lost in the primitive sensations, I felt the cat growl and hiss, but pace quietly in the face of my conflict of pain and pleasure.

 

Someone whimpered, a strangled bark of sound.

 

There was a pause, a cool breeze over the prairie fire.

 

And then the trees began to fall. Like a whole damn forest of timber, crashing and splintering, the hard, thick blows of the wooden cane bit deep into my muscles. Every hit threw me deep into the padding, sent the pain and need climbing like huffing up a steep flight of stairs, oblivion beyond.

 

And then all I could to do to save myself from being burned and buried alive in the forest fire… was to beg for mercy.

 

++ Michael ++

 

There is reassurance in ritual. Humans are obsessed with the nuance and fabric of our rituals. I had built my entire life on humanity’s ceremonies and needs. I provided my clients with safety to let them concentrate on their lives, their rituals. Be it a bodyguard or an elaborate Scene that cost thousands or tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of dollars, it all came down to safety. When people felt safe, they were themselves.

 

I had remained a rich woman because I could deliver that safety.

 

It was a tough call which half of my life I loved more, the ruthless boss of a security company that was admired in the most dangerous and shadowy of circles, or my role as Mistress with power that most could only dream of. I had a secret love for some of the old-school props, jodhpurs and silk shirts, cravats, riding crops made by loving hands. There was a barn on the estate on Long Island that held my most prized possessions. Though I hesitated to call Freewind and his herdmates ‘possessions’. My horses, both flesh and iron, were a source of great pride and joy to me. That same barn held props for smaller and more delicate creatures than the horses!

 

Shaking off my musings, I focused on what my hands had been doing with no input from my conscious mind. Since this was a public event, I had kept my preparations out in the open and every eye in the place was on my hands. The little nail clippers had already been tossed back onto the pristine silver tray that Pai held in unsteady fingers. Now I was on to the next step, the rasp of the tiny metal file loud in the room as I filed my nails blunt and smooth. Twenty perfect half-moons of keratin were lifted to the bright spotlight for inspection. Satisfied with my work, I tossed the file carelessly to the tray and picked up the pair of latex gloves that lay there. Both went over the same hand, offering double protection against tearing. They were a special brand, that hugged my arm nearly to my elbow in a tight sheath of surgical quality latex. Then it was time for the little ceramic container that contained a hot towel moist with water and an inert cleaning solution that would cause no harm to extremely delicate membranes. I was ready.

 

After watching Pai, Bootstrap and Junkie this night, it was becoming more and more obvious that we had all been isolated in New York for far, far to long. The poor Subs hardly knew what to do with themselves, having been removed from their insular life in my care. They were getting a hell of an education courtesy of Dace and the Four Suits! My old pal knelt proud and silent beside the exam table, where the stirrups glittered evilly in the bright light. She was magnificent; slender, strong, still glistening from the recent beating, marked from Tarzan’s rope bondage and the Lady Heartsblood’s touch. The venerable Mistress was famous for her abilities with cane and switch. She’d been ruthless, the whirr and whistle of the stiff rods making every hair in the place stand on end. Even seasoned Tops shuddered deliciously when the Lady Heartsblood wielded the tools of her craft.

 

Poor Dace would be feeling those marks for weeks. Now it was my turn. I had watched Dace limp to me, her expression and muscles set stoic against the pain. It hurt to watch, but she accomplished it, even managing to bow with that peculiar, stiff grace that only an accomplished, well-beaten Submissive could do. She was showing up every Bottom in the place, and those that hadn’t known her as long as I were shocked at how well she played the role. The conflicted look on the Red Queen’s face was indescribable.

 

“One more time,” I suddenly ordered loudly and several people jumped, including Pai. “Explain to us why you are doing this.”

 

If at all possible, Dace pulled herself even more tightly into military-perfect attention, despite being on her knees. The ex-Marine in me was pleased. “I have long been the property of the Suit of Diamonds. That time has passed. I have offered my body and my obedience to the Suit of Clubs, to the Suits of Hearts and now to the Suit of Spades as penance to my failure to the Queen of Diamonds. When you deem me redeemed, King of Swords, I will beg forgiveness of my former Mistress.”

 

“Accepted,” I praised coldly. “Hands on the table and get your ass out. Let’s see how those marks are coming up.” She obeyed instantly, standing awkwardly and displaying the purpling welts on her abused ass, lines zebra-striping down her thighs as well. The place was absolutely quiet, the only background music some soft Mozart and the symphony of breathing. “My compliments, Lady Heartsblood,” I demurred with a deep bow in the woman’s general direction before returning to the work at hand. “Get up on the table, Leonacouer,” I instructed, and Dace obeyed. “Bane Shidhe? May I request your assistance?” Karen melted out of the twilight at the edges of the bright spotlight to shine magnificently in the white glare. “Gabriel?” He appeared at my right shoulder, flashing the most discreet of grins. “She will need help from you both.”

 

Imagine my surprise when Bane sidled over to whisper almost soundlessly in my ear. “You should have the Wildcat here. There’s a strange bond between her and Dace. She’ll help keep things calm. Trust me.”

 

Now, Bane wouldn’t bring something like this up in the middle of a scene unless it was really important. I trusted her judgment implicitly and nodded my acceptance. Wildcat seemed to appear out of nowhere at Bane’s elbow and I had to grin.

 

“Let’s give you a new high, shall we?”

 

Wildcat was petting Dace’s hair fondly, ignoring the rest of us. There were faint speckles of blood on the white towel I had laid down to protect Dace’s punished rear end. Wanting this to be as pleasurable as it would be intense as it would be painful, I ran both hands over Dace’s flat belly. Gabe and Karen also reached out to stroke her skin, teasing the hard pink nipples. Since I had a front-row seat to just how wet and swollen our prey was, I was hardly surprised that Dace was moaning and writhing in moments.

 

It wasn’t easy for Dace to do this, it never had been. She was an extremely tight fit, challenging both of us. While I liked wielding pain for pleasure just as much as any Top, this trick was a particular delight to me. There was something about being so deep inside a trusting, excited woman, feeling the hard, beating pulse of her deepest pleasure, that was transcendental to me.

 

The moans went guttural as Dace easily accepted two fingers into the soft, warm channel of her body’s entrance. But just beyond that softness was our challenge. The implacable barrier of bone and muscle that I would ease my hand beyond. Grabbing the squirt bottle of jelly-like lube, a concoction of my own design, I eased another finger in. Dace’s noises were pleasure-high, waiting for the orgasm building in her guts. Her release was my entrance, when her body would let me in. All I had to do was time it. Stroking her clit soft, then hard, alternating the strokes, I played my best bet at how this would play out. My pinky tucked in with her fellows, and Dace’s cries became grunts, her hips rocking as I moved shallowly within the grip of her cunt. The knuckles made her convulse, a warning of the earthquake to come. She was moving now, writhing beneath the caresses that were death-grips of her keepers. Karen shoved a leather glove into Dace’s mouth, instructing Wildcat to make sure that Dace didn’t chip her teeth, but I was barely aware of any of them.

 

This was the art of fisting. When it was a challenge like this, it was timing and expertise and an artist’s touch. I was obsessed with the pink vulnerability of her cunt so tight around my hand, the barrier of bone and sphincter muscles invisible but all too obvious, the tornado of orgasm bearing down on us both.

 

It happened in slow motion, the flutter of release, her clit swelling, the crushing grip around my fingers and palm. Between one wave and the next, I tucked my awkward thumb up, relaxed my hand, and slipped into her boiling depths like a dark dream. It washed over me in time to the pulses, the burst of screaming that was pushed up and out by my hand. Pressing my free hand to her abdomen, I could almost feel the impalement, and pressing my cheek to her body was even more intimate.

 

I was panting like a racehorse from my own orgasm, re-focusing on the reality of the feel of my old pal connected to me so intimately. Kissing Dace’s tense-hard belly, I reached out blindly for the instrument tray beside the table and grabbed a square of the protective latex. Any guy that whined about using a rubber was a wuss. Plenty could be felt through the barrier, for both parties. Tucking the square against Dace’s stretched cunt, I hunched down to wrap full lips around the hard shaft of her pleasure. Crying and cursing, Dace fought the multiple hands on her body, and the leather straps keeping her feet restrained. Barely moving inside of her, I suckled gentle but implacable, coaxing another release from her.

 

It hit like a tsunami, breaking over the whole lot of us with that kind of force. The most extraordinary sound exploded from Dace, a shattering, inhuman cry that was somehow familiar. The force of her climax carried my hand smoothly from the temporary haven of her body and Karen and Gabe were thrown clear away from the table, leaving Wildcat wrapped around Dace’s skull for dear life.

 

Goodnight ladies and gentlemen! Fade to black.

 

++ Sylvia ++

 

My throat was so tight that my breathing was harsh and strangled to my own ears. The lump lodged there felt like I had swallowed an emu egg. Only my damnable, implacable stubbornness held the suffocating tears behind my eyes, but they poured like a waterfall over my scarred heart. Rachael leaned against my knee, her adoration a palatable thing. I left one hand in the dusky hair as I watched Dace. The part of me that still loved this woman so cried in sympathy to what I forced myself to watch in absolute stillness.

 

It was an extraordinary gesture, what my sweet and ferocious Lioness-hearted was putting herself through for me. She was curled up tight on her side, wrapped around the overstimulation that pulsed inside and out, the fierce blonde companion wrapped around her head and shoulders.

 

The crowd was gradually losing interest in the show, despite the fact they knew that there was more. Sensing that, Dace gathered herself, sitting up stiffly, her face a mask of pain and stubbornness. Leaning heavily on the smaller blonde, Dace limped her way over, every eye in the place once again glued to the canvas of her sacrifice.

 

My sweet little lion did not drop her eyes to me. Proud and strong, she petted her companion’s head and limped the last few steps to me. Hissing in agony, Dace knelt at my boots, lowering her forehead to the pointed toes.

 

“My Queen,” came her voice, strong yet soft. “I have failed you as a lifetime companion. By apologizing to your oldest companions, I have begged for your understanding and compassion. Please,” her voice cracked and tears welled up against my will. “Please. I’m so sorry. Please release me, my Queen. Please…”

 

“Damn you Dace,” I whispered. “How I loved you then, how much I don’t want to give you up.” A matched pair of tears slid free from the rising flood, and for once I was woman enough to not brush them away. Then I was finally resigned to what had to happen, and sighed heavily. “Sit up, Leonacouer, and look me in the eye.”

 

Those crystal irises met mine, and I felt both better and worse that she too was feeling the press of tears. Along moment of understanding passed between us, a silent goodbye that made me adore her for doing this for me. Now, I had to make the break final.

 

My gaze dropped to the red diamond I had so carefully tattooed over her heart all those years ago.

 

Now, it was up to me to destroy that sign of ownership without destroying her good looks.

 

“I never cut you, my sweet Lioness. That will be my last gift to you, and then our ties will be severed. Puppy?” Startled at being directly addressed by me, the big man glanced up from where he knelt beside Racheal’s tightly bound body. “Bring me a scalpel and a vial of black tattooing ink.”

 

“Yes, my Queen,” he squeaked and was off like a shot. The Amazons would take care of him, so I returned my attention to Dace. She understandably looked a little pale. Voluntarily sitting still while someone dragged a scalpel through your flesh was a daunting project.

 

“Come closer,” I demanded. “Let’s see if I remember how to please your body. My boots miss the taste of your honey.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

Oh, I knew what she wanted. Even though my pussy and ass ached like a car accident, I was much more pleased with her suggestion then the things that my own imagination had conjured up. It couldn’t hurt to play up the theatrics of this event, and I pitched my voice a little alarmed, shaken. It was only partially an act. “I don’t know if I can. I’m so sorry, Mistress…”

 

There were no words to explain how grateful I was for the faint glimmer of amusement in her flashing green eyes. Even after all of this… I could still make her laugh.

 

“Don’t whine, you weak-willed slut. You’ve been trained by the best in this business.” Sylvia’s opening salvo made me swallow a grin, enjoying the perverse banter. She knew how to get my body to move past the pain and back into pleasure. The nasty words were already working their magic. Leaning forward, Sylvia glowered at me with half-mocking menace. “Don’t you dare embarrass any of us, you worthless shit. You will do as I order, and you will do it now.”

 

“But…” I protested halfheartedly, and was rocked by her open hand cracking across my cheek and mouth. That did it! The aching wet between my legs morphed from pain to need again and I sighed deeply in relief. Letting the tears collected in my eyes to trickle, I scooted forward, feeling the brush of the pointed boot toes ruffle my soaked pubes. Fenris hadn’t bothered to mop me off, and I was unutterably grateful to that miracle lube of hers as I reached down to spread my pussy lips and let them delicately curl around the brutal toe point. If I hadn’t been so sore, I would have nestled into the intricate tooling covering the top of her feet and sloping back onto ankle and up her shin.

 

Instead, this would be a much more delicate operation. The smooth tickle of well-loved leather against the raw, over-stimulated point of my clit was a myriad of sensations. Positioned now, the pleasure starting to curl in my belly, one hand wrapped under Sylvia’s arch, the other tight around her ankle. It was still gonna be hard to get off this way, my nerves confused by all the attention, but there was more ways to grab the brass ring. Digging into years of training in the extremes of human sexuality, I reached out my sensitive senses and let my surroundings wash over me.

 

The crowd was half caught up in my drama, and half uninterested. That was fine. I could work with the heavy heartbeat of their arousal and attention. Smell and taste, musky and sweaty, swamped over me, and I tossed my head back with an animal sound.

 

“Yessssss…” Hissed out guttural and raw, the words awkward in my mouth. Drenched in sweat, every muscle aching, I was the focus of their need, and the whole room spiraled down to that tiny spot where I touched the crimson leather.

 

Close… close… the wave was rushing me again, crackling up my rigid spine.

 

Sunset broke over me, the wildfire consuming me.

 

But not before I felt it…

 

And was afraid.

 

++ Catherine ++

 

Something was wrong. Still tense and uncoordinated with orgasm, Dace tried to shake it off, coiling and turning, dropping into a threatened crouch. The room seemed to slow, as though no one but me could see the change. The rivers of sweat on her skin were golden fur, her eyes gleamed yellow, lips pulled back from razor-sharp teeth. I danced around the frozen crowd, skidding to an awkward halt beside my magnificent feline, grabbing her shoulders, startled when she really was just naked skin.

 

There!

 

There! Above us! A flicker of movement, a growl, a flash of red-gold eyes.

 

It was the interloper, the predator that hunted outside the law of this all-to-human jungle. The cat shivered in my hold, angry and afraid.

 

There was a wrenching sensation, like a bullet impact, the slam of one car into another, tripping and falling heavily to the ground. The reality of the room poured over me, the mass of humanity vulgar and familiar.

 

Yes, I was clinging tightly to a trembling Dace. Yes, we were staring at the darkness of the ceiling high above us, wreathed in deep darkness. Yes, something important had just happened. “He’s here,” I whispered around the fear swamping off us both.

 

“He’s gone,” Dace whispered and her arms coiled around me. “But not for long.”

 

It wasn’t easy to drag my eyes away from the darkness above, but I forced myself to meet her wild-eyed gaze. “He knows you now.”

 

Dace looked alarmed and a little queasy.

 

It was a strangely intimate affair, even in the center of all of these attentive strangers, as I knelt with Dace pressed against me and we watched the Red Queen carefully wield the deadly scalpel. Even as a part of me railed against what I was witnessing, I was fascinated at the sight of the razor edge bringing up thin stripes of Dace’s red blood. Hissing in response to every cut, whining, but utterly frozen still, Dace took the punishment, turned her face into me and clung to my thighs until I was a part of her pain too. The red diamond was outlined perfectly, then bisected down the center and then across in a cross held within the geometric shape. Black ink mixed with the crimson blood, and Sylvia gathered up one of the trickles. Examining the liquid, she sat back and was silent for a long time while Dace remained pressed into me, panting and tense. I had never felt so… needed in my life.

 

At last the striking green eyes looked to Dace, and I could understand the thinly hidden pain there. To have the love of this striking golden woman and lose it…

 

“I release you, Leonacouer,” Sylvia’s voice carried over the crowd with seeming no effort and the whole place grew eerily silent. “You are no longer of my service. Now, go away.”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	23. Let it Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang cleans Dace up, and the second-to-last piece of the puzzle joins the fray. Important pieces of history are passed about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R, for the aftermath of stylized violence.
> 
> Disclaimer: “JAG”: Not mine, can’t get any solid info, sorry!

++ Karen ++

 

(1-13-02)

 

There was a real sense of pride as the whole gang of us watched Leonacouer limp proudly from the event, her blonde sidekick in her wake. That had been a few minutes ago, and I was betting Dace would still be stressed right about now, whether or not she wanted to admit it or not. So I went in search of her. If I was unable to find her in this new building, I would hit up one of the Amazons, but right now, they were awfully busy. Something strange had happened while she had been with Sylvia and the sense of menace still lingered faintly. 

 

The noise of the party faded as I stepped into the back areas, glancing around the food-prep area and returning several smiles flashed at me. It was fun to recognize familiar faces amid the Amazons. 

 

“C’mon then,” a familiar voice startled me, as Mel brushed by carrying a bright purple duffel-bag that was incongruous with her formal dress. “I’ll need to look at that cutting.” She sounded as annoyed as Mel ever sounded and I smiled humorlessly. It had been a harsh punishment, even for the Red Queen. Six slices, all an inch to two inches long in the space smaller than a child’s palm. My skin crawled just thinking about it.

 

It only took a few minutes for Mel to zero in on our old friend’s suffering, finding Dace hunched over, hands flat on a table, shivering in shock. Catherine looked completely freaked out. “Hey, punk,” I greeted Dace, and she tilted her head to look at me. There was that strange menace in her eyes, mixed with all-too-human weariness and pain. “Been a hell of a night.”

 

“Hella,” she agreed softly, flinching a little as I gathered up her smaller body, tucking her back along my front. “God damn, but I’m outta practice, Bane.”

 

The whiny tone bugged me, as I cradled her gently around her belly and Mel rifled through her bag. 

 

“Yeah, getting’ tossed halfway across the room was quite a shock,” I teased gently. “Now, how am I gonna explain those bruises to the wife?” 

 

Dace snorted in weak humor. “Guess I’m stronger than I look.”

 

Glancing down her slender frame, I had to silently agree.

 

“Can you handle poppers?” Mel suddenly asked flatly and Dace nodded.

 

“Yes. I suppose you’re gonna hafta mop out my new art,” Dace tried to joke and Mel stared her down with that flat, almost otherworldly look she was so good at.

 

“Quite,” Mel drawled out. “I know that we still have a long night ahead of us, so I’d rather not dose you up with anything strong. Generally, I don’t approve of using amyl nitrate for this kind of thing, but we’ll give it a shot. Besides, it’d be a shame to lose the high that the Suits went to all that trouble to give you, hmmm?”

 

Man, those alcohol swipes were going to sting like a bitch. Still dwelling on how effortlessly Dace had tossed me earlier, I prepared myself for the worst.

 

++ Catherine ++

 

From my various studies that had led to a BA in forensic science, I knew the effect that amyl nitrate had on the human body. It seemed a strange choice for a doctor to use on a patient. Firing me a strangely searching look, the tall woman began explaining to the other two tall women, even as I swear she was actually aiming it at me. “This will play into the sex and pain theme of the night, Dace. It’s a moderately strong dose, but you’re young and healthy. Once we get you cleaned up and glue those cuts closed, we’ll get you back to the party.”

 

“This is gonna hurt,” Dace commented matter-of-factly and Mel nodded.

 

“Probably worse than the original cuts.”

 

“Leave it to Sylvia to make me suffer twice.”

 

It was hard to tell if the comment was a compliment or an insult. 

 

Doctor Mel pulled out several baggies, each containing small vials like miniature test tubes sealed with tiny cotton balls. The yellow one was squeezed until there was a crunching noise and it was held under Dace’s nose, with Mel’s cupped hand keeping the vapors partially contained. The faint smell of over-ripe apples made my nose tingle as I sidled in close to Dace’s vulnerable body. It was so strange to be cuddled into her like this, while she was so damp and naked, sharing her space with Karen’s leather-clad body. For long moments Dace held in a deep breath and Mel dropped her hands away, tossing the spent vial into an empty baggie and sealing it tight. Dace groaned sensually as she exhaled and relaxed noticeably.

 

“Feelin’ better?” Mel drawled and Dace hummed happily. But she still hissed and whimpered as Mel used sterile wipes on the coagulated blood and ink. The thin, blackened cuts were angry-looking on her fair skin. Several of the blue vials were crunched, their cotton tips quickly saturated, and the wounds painted closed.

 

By the time Mel finished, Dace was tense and growling. “Okay, Lioness, you can come down now, you’re done. The cuts are closed, and they look clean to me. I should probably make sure that Fenris didn’t leave you with more than a groin ache. Not to mention those Heartsblood stripes. Bend over.” With a resigned sigh, Dace kissed me softly and bent in a perfect ‘L’, with her ass held at an accessible angle. Mel knelt with enviable grace, considering she was in an evening gown and heels.

 

I stroked Dace’s head and shoulders, feeling the echo of her pain as Mel examined the rest of her battle marks. 

 

“Brutal,” Mel commented flatly and Dace hissed in pain. “But lined up as perfectly as the Lady’s work always is. No blood, and the swelling seems minimal. You’re a damn good healer, Leonacouer.” Standing, the dark-haired doctor smacked Dace affectionately on the hip as she stood. “Hit the shower, sport. I’ll keep track of your sidekicks here.”

 

++ Mel ++

 

“Sidekick?” Karen drawled and I chuckled. The compact blonde was lost in thought, staring the direction of where Dace was in the other room cleaning up.

 

“After the way she bounced you away like a soccer ball earlier?” I teased, carefully watching Karen’s expression. “You’ve been demoted to sidekick.”

 

She didn’t take the bait, but merely followed the small blonde’s gaze towards the showers. “Yeah.”

 

“He was here,” the blonde suddenly spoke flatly and Karen startled. Wide blue eyes stared up at the towering red-head. “He was in the ceiling, close enough to pounce. I can’t remember the last time I was so scared, or so angry.”

 

When she suddenly stumbled, half-collapsing, Karen jumped into action. “Catherine!”

 

It astonished me how quickly Dace appeared, leaping with extraordinary grace to crouch beside Karen and the mysterious Catherine. “I’m okay,” KC’s doppelganger reassured Dace, stroking the wet cheek. “Bane’s got me. Finish your shower and we’ll talk.”

 

Reluctantly, Dace retreated with much encouragement from Bane. I watched Catherine stare at Dace’s retreating back, felt the crackle of connection between them, and knew that Jane was right. 

 

It was uncomfortable, to say the least, to find something more than just your familiar self within your body and mind. I remembered clearly the first time I met Xena, the presence of my ancestor coming into focus as I lay eyes on brash young Jane. It was more than love at first sight, screw the poor poets who tried to describe the sensations that filled me that day, that have filled me every day since. Meeting Jane that day, the autumn sunlight making her as radiant as an angel, completed me, clicked in all the ragged corners of my soul into their ragged counterparts in her. That bliss set us apart from the rest of humanity and we both knew it.

 

It was something similar here, between these two strong women. A magical connection feral and foreign to human sensibilities. The animal energy in Dace echoed in Catherine, who echoed it right back. A pack bond, wolves hunting in the snow, lionesses on the tawny plains. This was a magic long-forgotten by humanity, yet never fully out of reach.

 

Fascinating. I needed to give Ingle a call and let her toss her two cents in the ring on this phenomenon. 

 

++ Olivia ++

 

What a strange night it had been. I was exhausted and exhilarated by what I had been through. My skin still tingled from where these people’s leaders had plucked the fruit tarts off my belly earlier. Pony had been true to her word, and that was the only time I had been touched the entire time I was on display. Tiny had welcomed me to the family as we were led off to clean up and get back to my life. The fabric of my familiar clothes felt odd against my skin, as though outraged to suddenly be covered again.

 

The feeling hadn’t faded over the hours that had passed since.

 

Jo had hovered near me, curiosity dancing in her eyes at my thoughtful silence. I watched with an intensity that was overboard even for me. I studied Dace’s sacrifice, memorizing the details of her tortured body and wondered at the fine line between this and what I pursued in the name of justice.

 

Working sex crimes left me in a limbo here, where these people practiced pain for pleasure. Outside of this dark-time world, this kind of behavior would be some of the most vile, base abuse. Yet… these were sane, consenting adults. The shades of gray made my head ache.

 

Even through my lingering confusion, I went in search of Dace. I had too personal a bond with Jo to learn all this through her, and I knew it. But Dace had been friendly to me before I was an ass back at Zo’s place. Honestly, she had still been friendly to me, never once making my punishment about anger or revenge. It had been a lesson, and I had taken it to heart.

 

I found Karen, Catherine and Doctor Mel huddling in a first aid area next to a locker room. Karen’s green eyes found me, but she didn’t smile. “Hey, Dobie.”

 

At that moment, Dace stepped into the room, damp from the shower and toweling her hair. “Hey Dobie,” she grinned at me and nuzzled Catherine hello. From the front, she mostly just looked naked and flushed from the hot water. Well, if I ignored the angry cuts on her chest. That, and if I looked carefully, I could still see the hints of the purple welts at her hips and the curve of pale thighs. Her stance was still awkward and pained from cane and fist.

 

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” Dace continued and strode closer to me. “You did a great job earlier.” Her sky eyes were guileless, and I could see the approval there, as well as the stress and fear unrelated to me. “Sorry to ask you to do something so out there. It really wasn’t something I should have asked of a stranger.”

 

For a moment I studied her, perversely comparing her blue eyes to Alex’s. The gorgeous ADA had been on my mind a lot since that memorable goodbye in New York. So, I took a cue from my brave co-worker and potential love-interest, and reached up to hook a hand around Dace’s neck to pull her down for a kiss. For a moment, I closed my eyes and felt the press of her soft mouth on mine, before tilting my head and coaxing at her to get more involved. She was a good kisser and I lost myself in the heat for a long moment. Yep, this is what I wanted, even if she wasn’t quite the right blonde. There was warm pleasure and questions in Dace’s eyes as I let her up for air. “There,” I smiled. “Now we’re no longer strangers.”

 

The throaty, charmed chuckle warmed me the way few things ever had, and I felt the strangest sense of homecoming in this woman’s laugh.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Delighted with my new pal, I swept her into a big hug, further warmed when she giggled and embraced me back. Tilting my head, I grinned slyly. “Hey Dobie?”

 

“Yeah?” She grinned back.

 

“What the hell’s your name?”

 

That made her laugh, a warm, rich, honest sound that came from deep inside. It sounded a little rusty, and I had to wonder when was the last time she had let go so freely. Gently, I set her down and let her laugh, grinning along. Stepping back a half-pace, Dobie offered her hand, which I eagerly took in my own. “Olivia Benson. Pleased to make you acquaintance.” 

 

“Olivia,” I repeated, liking the name. “Candace DeLorenzo.” More chuckles escaped Olivia as my face screwed up into a half-hearted scowl. “I have got to get rid of that stupid last name…”

 

“Married?”

 

“Not for much longer, I hope,” was my winced answer and Olivia turned sympathetic.

 

“What’s your real name then?”

 

What a strange question that was. My real name. The thought warmed me thoroughly and I felt strangely shy, searching for Catherine’s eyes. “Bogart,” I whispered, tasting the strangeness of the name I had borne most of my life. “My mother claimed distant relation to the famous one.” When I extended a welcoming hand, Catherine came over to be tucked into my side.

 

“I kept mine,” she whispered and I nuzzled the reddish-gold hair.

 

“Because of your daughter?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Olivia squirmed to get away and I let her escape, leaving me to gather my Coyote close and ignore the others for the time being. “Men suck,” I mumbled and Catherine chuckled.

 

“Yes. What was yours like?”

 

“Cheating sweet-talker.”

 

Catherine huffed humorlessly into my collarbone. “That was mine and more.”

 

Someone entering the room caught my eye and I gave Catherine a squeeze before refocusing my attention. “Hey Fenris,” I greeted my old pal and she grinned quizzically. “Your big Junkyard Dog here earned her leathers back.” Olivia actually looked mildly embarrassed at Michael’s appraising look. Then Michael turned to Pai, standing behind her.

 

“Go retrieve Dobie’s leathers from my room.” While Pai scampered off to do that errand, Fenris smiled at all of us. “I was hoping we could hang around and chat now that our duties to formality and mentors are over.” Despite my exhaustion and aching chest, ass and crotch, I couldn’t think of a better way to end the day. Besides, the acid taste of fear wouldn’t leave me.

 

The time was coming… and fast.

 

The cat knew it.

 

++ KC ++

 

Being the Queen Mother of this corner of the Scene, I was an object of awe and delighted fear. It amused me hugely. Prostitution in Asia birthed this fringe empire over the course of three decades, and I couldn’t be happier or more proud. Even this three-year hiccup with Sylvia hadn’t ruined things, just monkey-wrenched them for awhile. “Silver,” I called the nickname only loudly enough for my cronies to hear me. After many years of hating the nomer, I was amused to notice that Sylvia didn’t bother to scowl this time. “I’m really glad you’re here.” It was the first time I had flat-out said it and she smiled warmly. 

 

“Me too,” she confessed and we all grinned together.

 

Not wanting to get too mushy, I rubbed my hands conspiratorially and my grin turned evil. “Perhaps you three would help an old woman.” They chuckled and leaned closer over the table. “That pretty girl over there with the black hair and the big blue eyes? Fenris has been squirreling her away for years and I admit that I’m dying of curiosity.”

 

“She’s been in Leonacouer’s hands for what must be nearly a couple of weeks now,” Jesse mused thoughtfully, before suddenly springing to his feet. “I’ll get her.”

 

Even after all these years, he was such a good boy! I watched as Jesse spoke with the woman, who visibly blanched and nervous blue eyes flickered wildly from him to me and back again. Then she straightened up stubbornly and I swallowed a grin. Leave it to Grace to find someone powerful and mercurial. They must have some incendiary chemistry together. I watched Jesse smile at Jo, before wrapping one of those big hands around her neck and walking her over to the table. Long beats passed while we mentors studied her closely, and Jesse sat back down. Her chin was level, her gaze in the center of the table, her stance a tightly formal parade rest. Her torso was wrapped in a skin-tight, paper-thin layer of electric blue rubber that brought out her eyes and the black leggings both hid and hinted at her curves. 

 

“Your name?” Anastasia asked in a no-nonsense voice and Jo drew herself up to a level of formality that bordered on painful. Very nice.

 

“My Mistress has given me the name Junkie, Lady Heartsblood.”

 

“Turn around,” Jesse instructed and Jo immediately did as she was told to reveal a teardrop shape cut from the latex. “See, Silver? Your lessons with Fenris have paid off.”

 

“Very nice,” Sylvia complimented and I was inclined to agree. The sword with its climbing pyre of hot-rod white flames was impressive.

 

Junkie’s hissing reaction when I touched the ink was even better. “Michael must like that reaction,” I commented dryly and sat back again. “Around again, Junkie.” Once more, the bright eyes were on the center of the table. Very nice training on this one. 

 

++ Michael ++

 

Whatever the hell I had been expecting when I returned to the reception, this hadn’t been it. Jo was standing at loose attention, her eyes focused on KC, whose laughter suddenly rang out. Some distressed noise must have escaped me, for Dace and Karen chuckled, not unkindly, and patted my shoulders.

 

Wordlessly, I made my way to the boss’ side, completely unnerved by the situation. While KC might be on the waning side of the aging spectrum, she had lost none of her fire and intimidation. Still whip-smart and as observant as an eagle, she was an institution in several circles. There was something about her, some indefinable spark that…

 

That I suddenly realized Dace and Catherine reminded me of.

 

Filing that information away, I came to attention at Jo’s side, wanting to show solidarity with my playmate and lover. Whether consciously or not, she mimicked the pose, almost swaying in my direction. “Ma’am,” I intoned clearly to KC, my voice pitched carefully to be heard only in the near vicinity. 

 

“She’s delightful, Grace. You shouldn’t hide her away.”

 

“It has become… habit,” I replied truthfully and felt Jo stir slightly beside me.

 

“Yes,” KC murmured and the too-raw pain of their long separation passed over the faces of my elders. “But no longer.” The renewed fire in her voice made the cloud pass. “Junkie here was telling us how she came into your possession.”

 

Breaking my formal stance, I relaxed, shifting my eyes to this extraordinary woman I was suddenly loathe to share with anyone. Stroking one silky cheek, I coaxed her to look up, smiling with my heart in my eyes. “She saved Gabriel,” I said for their benefit before pitching my voice more intimate. “And me too, I think.” I ignored the delighted laughter as Jo threw her arms around my neck and we hugged there in front of everybody. Something that sounded suspiciously like my name made it to my ears, and I heard the teary stress in Jo’s voice. It was time to go and I raised my head, hoping the other Suits would forgive my informality. “If you’ll excuse us.”

 

Their gentle laughter followed us out.

 

++ Fox Mulder ++

 

In the nine days since coming to Chicago, the best I had managed to accomplish was getting to know the local pizzerias. With Scully and Reyes as my eyes and ears, all I could do was coordinate and catch up on old paperwork. Since I had decades worth of the stuff, the working vacation was doing me some good. 

 

The phone had remained irritatingly silent… except for the brass back in the Hoover building nagging me for progress. So far I had managed to keep the dogs at bay with my reputation and history of getting results. Thankfully, the call from the CSIs in Las Vegas had made great strides in convincing them that I wasn’t completely nuts.

 

A gooey chunk of classic Chicago-style pizza was halfway to my mouth when the cell buzzed. For a moment, I was honestly tempted to ignore it, tired of getting yelled at by my superiors. But duty won out and I lunged for it. “Agent Mulder.”

 

“Agent Mulder,” said a urgent female voice. “This is Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin, Navy.”

 

Navy? Now what the hell was I getting dragged into? “What can I do for you, Commander?” 

 

“I belong to the JAG Corps, Agent Mulder, and the sketch you released of this serial killer you’re calling Snake-Eyes?”

 

“Yes?” My voice was tense with anticipation, and I forced myself to sit down.

 

“He’s one of ours, or I swear your perp is an evil twin.”

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“As a heart attack. I recognize the sketch, because he was stationed here at the Pentagon back when I was a Lieutenant JG. His name is Dwayne Garcia, and he’s a Marine.” So my nemesis had a name now. “He’s received special training that makes him incredibly dangerous, but you already knew that, Agent Mulder.”

 

“Quite.”

 

This just got better and better…

 

“I’m coming to you, Agent Mulder, so that we can pool our resources.”

 

“Really?”

 

“He has to be stopped, one way or the other.”

 

++ Catherine ++

 

I was hardly shocked when my elder doppelganger approached me with a look of extreme curiosity. It was mutual, after all. She walked like a woman very much in control of her destiny, posture erect and stride self-assured. Her age was a total mystery, even as she drew close to return my frank, curious stare. There were delicate crinkles of age in the laughing corners of her eyes, and more lightly emphasized the features I knew so well. The resemblance was really eerie…

 

“Crazy,” she murmured softly and I was stunned to hear that she… I… we even sounded alike! “Jesse tried to tell me how close the resemblance was, but I have to admit that I honestly thought he was exaggerating.” One hand was extended along with a warm smile. “KC Koloski.”

 

“Catherine Willows,” I replied and willingly took her warm hand. “I see now why I shocked your friends so much.”

 

“That you did,” she chuckled warmly and took the seat beside me that Sara had been in. I felt a little exposed here, all alone, but when nature calls… “Lady Heartsblood tells me that you’re from her city.”

A little wary now, I nodded stiffly and she leaned back with a smile. “I’m only asking out of a curiosity completely outside of what’s going on around us.” Once again, I was intrigued. “I may have a theory of why we look so much alike.”

 

“I’m listening,” I said in a neutral tone.

 

“You’ve got quite the game face, Catherine,” my elder doppelganger chuckled.

 

“So Lady Heather told me,” I drawled back and KC laughed out loud.

 

“You know Heather? Fascinating. And here, rumor had it that you were a neophyte.”

 

“It was business related, actually.”

 

“Isn’t it always?”

 

Laughter bubbled up at her teasing comment. This was an easy woman to like. “So, I’m curious what your theory is. Some kind of six degrees of separation game?”

 

“Do you know a Sam Braun?”

 

The blunt question completely took me off guard. Memories crowded my mind’s eye of the man who had taken such a powerful interest in my and my mother’s welfare. As a child, the casino mogul had been a hero to me, a stable presence in my life. As a young woman, he watched over me as I worked the crowds with the skill of my dexterous young body and the pulse of raunchy music. As a forensics professional, he hindered me, subtly, in the quest of the shadowy goings-on around him.

 

And I had always wondered things about him…

 

“Yes,” I answered quietly, trying to draw answers from this familiar stranger.

 

“I’m not surprised,” KC sighed and seemed to deflate into her chair, suddenly looking old and weary. “A relative perhaps?”

 

“Not that I’m aware of.”

 

“He is to me. He’s my brother.”

 

Shock wrote itself across my face, I could feel it spiral up from deep inside. This woman looked just like me, well, actually, I looked just like her. She was Sam’s sister. Good God…

 

“I left Vegas before the Vietnam War, because I saw where he was headed. There was no way I was going to get caught up in that life. Prostitution was enough. Having your brother try and play a role in that was just weird and sick. So I headed where the soldiers did and made my own life. Changed my name and everything.”

 

Once more, I stared at the face of this woman who showed me exactly what I would look like in my future. “I’ve always wondered why he took such an interest in me.”

 

“Bet he’s your father,” KC said quietly and leaned forward to place a gentle hand on my arm. “But that would thrill me.”

 

“Huh?” I said intelligently, bewildered by this strange course of events.

 

“Because that means that he did at least something right, and that’s you.”

 

++ Olivia ++

 

The night seemed to have been a resounding success. Conversation still flowed freely, everyone had enjoyed being in their roles in varying levels of formality and extremes. There had been much laughter and enjoyment, many happily satisfied Tops and Bottoms. Literally, I mused to myself as I eyeballed Dace’s purple-striped ass nearby. She’d dressed in heavy leather chaps, her boots and an open leather vest, and nothing else. I’d guess it was to show off her war wounds and keep them from chaffing. She’d put on a hell of a show, even a novice like me could see the effect she was still having on the crowd. 

 

I’d stuck close to the mysterious Candace DeLorenzo… Bogart, whatever; drawn to the extremes of her. The puzzle of her fascinated me, and the pure animal magnetism of her was formidable. Watching Dace affectionately place kisses and pats to Catherine and Sara, it seemed like I was the only one that wasn’t completely smitten with the woman. Not completely anyway.

 

Then again, I’d initiated that hello kiss, so…

 

Dace’s body language altered as she slipped from the reception, and I found myself following protectively. Karen watched silently, nodding at me soberly when I met the emerald eyes. It felt like a sign of trust and I took it to heart.

 

The damp, icy bite of Chicago’s winter made me wince. Ah, just like home. It was easy to spot Dace’s dark form in the false light of the city. Thankfully, she had scrounged up a heavy trenchcoat to cover her half-naked body. “Nice night,” I quipped sarcastically and strode over to stand beside her. A faint smile tugged at her proud mouth, tense now with her stressful night. So I stood beside her, holding vigil over the bustling city around us. She was an attractive woman, with fine features that held a hint of baby-faced innocence that I knew was at least mostly an illusion. Beneath that human face was an animal power that I didn’t understand, yet felt strangely familiar.

 

“He was here.”

 

I hadn’t really expected her to speak. Hell, I wasn’t even sure why I was here. But there was something in her tone, flat and predatory, spiced with a primal fear that tugged at my blue cop’s heart. There was no need to ask who she meant, I was only curious how she knew it was him. Groaning, Dace rested her weight against the short wall that kept us from the long drop to the street below.

 

“He’s like me.”

 

Many years ago, I had learned the art of well-planned silence. Often that’s all it would take to make someone talk, that deep need that humanity has to fill an awkward silence. Bitter wind tugged at blonde locks, making Dace shiver. Then the mood shifted and the blue eyes danced with perverse warmth. She laughed, a beautiful laugh, a rich, warm sound that chased off the cold for a moment.

 

“You really didn’t like me much,” she suddenly said in a teasing tone and I rolled my eyes.

 

++ Dace ++

 

My sudden change of subject made Olivia roll her eyes in a very cop-like fashion, amusing and reassuring me at the same time.

 

“Dace,” she smirked in exasperation. “I didn’t understand you. No one really explained to me what the hell I was getting into. Now that I have a clue, I kinda like you.” A friendly hip-bump made me grin like an idiot, happy to have this woman’s sudden friendship. “Besides, this story is getting way too fascinating to walk away from. All the others are so freakin’ infatuated with you, that you need someone to keep a level head around you.”

 

“Is that why you kissed me?” I couldn’t resist and she pointedly ignored the comment. It was a good point though, and I relaxed into the safety of her presence. “You’re right. It’s gotta have something to do with the cat, there’s no other explanation.”

 

Liv’s expression was sly as she watched me from the corner of her eye. “You sayin’ you can’t get lucky with the ladies without your feline mojo?”

 

“Smartass.”

 

By the time I’d reviewed the foundation of what had been going on, the events were much clearer to both of us. From Magda’s phone call to meeting Catherine, to the terror and rage that Snake-Eyes inspired in me, I spilled it all. It had been years since I’d been so open and honest, holding nothing back. Through it all, Olivia stood quietly with me in the dark, absorbing every word. God, she was great.

 

“Your partner’s damn lucky,” I finally commented, pulling out of my own head to notice how fucking cold I was. “You’re great. Now c’mon, before we both freeze.”

 

“Californian,” Olivia sneered mockingly, but I could tell that she was pleased by my trust.

 

++ Lieutenant Commander Meg Austin ++

 

And to think I had only come in to look over some paperwork…

 

In the five months and two days since New York and the Pentagon had been attacked by terrorists, I had rarely left my hotel or the now-familiar twenty-seventh precinct. In the fallout of the World Trade Center’s horrific destruction, the twenty-seventh was the only place where we had found space to set up shop. The events of 9-11 had made it obvious that the diverse facets of American law enforcement desperately needed to communicate effectively. That had been my life since being plucked out of the northwest headquarters.

 

“What the hell are you still doing here, commander?”

 

In the quiet of the early morning in the dead of winter in the Big Apple, the familiar voice startled me into dropping the massive stack of files I had been trying to move to a safer spot in my claustrophobic little office. Ignoring the mess for the moment, I whirled around to face my superior officer and her familiar smirk. “Jeezus, captain, you scared the hell out of me.”

 

“I see that,” Allison Krennick drawled wryly and stepped in. Damn her for looking so put together at four in the morning. Of course, I hadn’t slept in nearly thirty-six hours. “Something has you all riled up.”

 

That was an understatement and I took a deep breath and dove right in. Snatching the police sketch from my cluttered desk, I thrust it at her. “That’s an old Marine buddy of mine. Sort of. I knew him years ago from working briefly at the Pentagon. Actually, I had a serious crush on him.” Grunting, I picked up the now mangled pile of paperwork, scowling at the work it was going to take me to get it all back in order, and tossed it onto the top of the file cabinet. “He was a really nice guy, and his file is pretty much spotless.”

 

“Then why is there an all-points bulletin out for his arrest out as…” her eyebrows rose as she took a close look at the paper. “As a serial killer?”

 

“I looked up his file,” I rambled as I continued to sack my office. “Something happened to him in Bosnia. He was lost behind enemy lines for nearly three weeks and it… changed him somehow.” Abruptly, I stopped in my tracks and stared wildly at the woman, noting her startled expression at my uncharacteristic wild intensity. “I want to help find him. Something isn’t right about this, but I can’t put my finger on it. What made him go bad? With no warning? What the hell happened to him?”

 

“Whoa, whoa,” Krennick soothed and stepped over to stand close and stare at me closely. “You’re getting stir crazy here, aren’t you?” As tempting as it was to deny, some of my spastic energy was exactly that and I nodded stiffly. A long moment passed while she studied me and I fought the urge to flinch away from the scrutiny. “All right. I’ll sign the paperwork for you to go try and save your pal, but be careful. I’ve gotten used to you as a sidekick.” High heels clicked busily across the cement, a familiar sound I suddenly realized that I would miss. As grating as Captain Krennick could be, I’d grown fond of her over the years. She paused in the door to lean in and grin warmly at me. “Be sure you leave a farewell note to Briscoe. He’ll miss you so.”

 

Rolling my eyes at her tease, and trying to ignore the chuckle. The local detectives had been good to us, tolerating the strange presence of a bunch of Navy lawyers in their space. So I indeed scrawled out a quick note to Briscoe and Green, who had taken such good care of me in this strange city. It was the least I could do for them.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	24. Major Arcana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, the gang bonds with laughter, conversation and reminiscing. Meg arrives and the shit hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13.

++ Michael ++

 

Exhausted and mellow, a whole gang of us sprawled out amidst the debris field of the party. It seemed as though I was surrounded with my beloved peers, old and new. Jane had summarily dismissed her Amazons once liquids were mopped up or carried away. Everything else could wait until everyone had slept! Only Steph and the Amazon Queen remained, and the former, much to my huge amusement, had fallen asleep beside me and was now slumped into my lap.

 

“Good thing she can sleep anywhere,” Gabe chuckled and gently redistributed Steph’s weight to reduce the stiffness that would soon plague her lower body.

 

“It’s a sign of a good bartender,” Jane chimed in, grinning where she was tucked into Mel’s side. “And the best second anyone could ever have. Damn workaholic.”

 

We all chuckled and I noticed Ben check his watch with mild alarm, quickly, he tossed back the rest of his drink and stood. “Well, on that note, Ian and I have a plane to catch.” The gang laughed and booed him. Feigning hurt, Ian joined his partner and I smiled at my favored seconds.

 

“Hey, someone has to keep an eye on things in New York while you’re all having fun here. Thank you for having us, Suit of Clubs.” Jane waved off Ian’s semi-formal thanks with a lazy wave of her hand.

 

“Our pleasure. Never thought I’d admit to missing the Swords.”

 

“Farewell thee, Archangel Uriel,” Mel mocked good-naturedly in a smooth English accent one could barely tell was feigned. “Farewell thee, Archangel Rafael.”

 

It had been a night for laughter and good times. Even the stiff and aching Dace seemed in good spirits. After a raucous goodbye, my pair of Jack of Spades were gone, and a comfortable quiet settled over the group.

 

“So, I take it,” Catherine suddenly piped up. “That the whole Archangel thing is why you’re Michael?”

 

“Oh,” I lamented with a swooning hand to my forehead. “My secret is out.” Shrugging, I grinned. “It suited us. But truthfully, it started with Gabe’s name.”

 

“It really is Gabriel,” my partner laughed. “I’m just the messenger.”

 

We all groaned at that one.

 

++ Tessa ++

 

Something woke me suddenly and I froze in mid-jerk so that I did not disturb Anastasia. There was no undue sound, just the steady hum of the heater that kept away the frigid Chicago winter. Perhaps the others were still awake? I debated with myself about leaving Anastasia’s warmth or spending some time with old friends. The rareness of so many of us in one place won out and I snuggled into my Lady’s soft body. She stirred with a small sound and one coveted hand smoothed over my ribs and hip.

 

“Why so restless, my love?” Her voice was gravelly with sleep and I once again debated with myself. There was no reason to be so awake, it had been a very long party. “Would you like to go spend time with the others?”

 

Startled at her perceptiveness, though I should certainly be used to it, I squirmed around until I could see her night-darkened eyes. “I was… curious if they might not still be awake.”

 

Chuckling softly, Anastasia leaned in to kiss me tenderly, and my heart melted as it always did. “Go spend some time with them, dearest. Who knows when so many of us will be in one place again?”

 

“Thank you,” I murmured softly, giving her a much more thorough kiss.

 

“Off with you now,” Anastasia chuckled and swatted me as I scrambled from the bed. “We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to play. You pups have fun.”

 

She was asleep again before I had found sweats and slippers to insulate me from the unaccustomed cold.

 

Just down the hall, light flooded from a cracked door and into the dim hallway of Silverback’s personal quarters. Laughter echoed from the light and I crept over to let my eyes to adjust, feeling strangely shy to join them. 

 

Then Gabe, damn him, noticed me hovering and threw open the door, making me squeak with surprise and jump back. With a grin, he hooked a big hand around my neck and tossed me into the bright room. There was a roar of welcome from the group there, and I decided I wasn’t so annoyed with Gabe after all.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Demure, but pleased with the reception, Tessa thanked the lot of us with little-girl kisses that earned her pets and squeezes. Hell, even I got one. Sara flushed, and Catherine woke with a confused chuckle before curling back up in the padded bowl-shaped couch that my pals had scrounged up for my aching ass and groin.

 

“So,” Tiny rumbled quietly after draining his beer. “You never finished your story.” He looked impossibly straight, in only an ribbed undershirt and baggy pants, drinking Heineken and Tessa perched on his knee. So much for fag boy clichés…

 

“Ummm… oh, right, police academy. That was it. So, that girl I had the hard on for, right?” I rambled, casting back into my memories. “She was as tough as I was, and there was this one guy in our class that no one was sure was going to make it. Eventually Maria and me managed to bag him separately. It was a bit of a contest,” I added with false sheepishness. “Men were tools, but Rich was a good one. Only, he was never really into us.” A wicked grin perked my audience up. “Until I found out purely by accident that he needed something in his ass to get into it, y’know?” Chuckles rippled through the room as I reminisced on my young lover’s prowess. “Once we’d gotten his attention, the guy was a slut. It took some persuasion, but I managed to get Maria to agree to tag team Rich. He cried, seriously, when I rammed him from behind him while he did Maria. It was some of the best raw sex any of us had ever had. Especially when I got to trade spots with Maria.” Michael made a disgruntled noise where she had her feet propped up on the table beside Monica’s glass of orange juice. “Hey, I know it’s tame, but it’s a good memory. What’s yours?”

 

“A client that spent a fortune to be ‘kidnapped’ and gang banged on an unfinished skyscraper in downtown Queens, fifty stories up.” Michael deadpanned with one eyebrow arched up expressively and laughter erupted around the table while Gabe got misty-eyed. 

 

“God, that was a great gig. We gotta do something completely crazy and over the top like that again.” Shaking off his retrospection, he leered at the table in general. “Okay, I’ve got one. Most embarrassing.” A chorus of groans went up. “Okay, okay, or the weirdest sex thing?”

 

++ Catherine ++

 

“Fine,” Michael sighed, but didn’t straighten up from her lazy sprawl in the spades and swords throne that my… aunt had occupied earlier. My mind was still reeling. “I’ll take the bait, Brann. Being screwed goodbye by my base XO at the end of boot camp.” Her full mouth curled into an enticing half-smile. “I learned more than just ‘oo-rah’ from the Marines.”

 

This group laughed so much! Despite the taboo and kinky trappings of their lives, they were possibly one of the healthiest slice of humanity I’d ever met. Mel’s dry comment of sex on an autopsy table made not only me chuckle, but Sara and Dana as well. Wouldn’t Robbins be shocked? I lazily tossed out the story of casting a ex’s fully erect dick in molding latex usually reserved for my job. Showed every little detail in loving, life-sized detail. Jane added in a long, lovingly detailed rendition of kitchen smut that would leave me a different perspective on my kitchen paraphernalia. 

 

It was a strange bliss to be cuddled up with Dace like this, her upper body pressed trustingly into my smaller body. I could feel that feline energy alert but quiescent beneath her warm skin. Sara was tucked into Dace’s side, where I could reach around and stroke the dark locks if I chose. Liv was relaxed in a chair near the small of my back, I could almost feel the energy that radiated from the New York detective in waves. Jo had chosen to sit beside Michael, a few chairs away around the corner of the table. Monica was curled in a chair nearby, Sara’s socked feet pressing into her thigh. It was a comfortable and warm nest.

 

I was doing my damnest to ignore that it couldn’t last.

 

“KC using me as Michael’s mid-term,” Dace suddenly rumbled and held up a clenched fist with a meaningful eyebrow. To my surprise, Michael actually flushed. 

 

“Yeah,” she temporized. “You were a hell of a tough test subject. You’re still a damn tight fit.”

 

“So I feel,” Dace snorted good-naturedly and I smoothed my hand over Dace’s abdomen. The memory of seeing Michael’s strong hand completely buried in Dace’s softness was blazed in my memory.

 

Then a comment from left field derailed my thoughts.

 

“At least you weren’t saved by a Warner.”

 

++ Jo ++

 

Oh, dammit, dammit, dammit! I did not just say that out loud…

 

A heavy foot landed solidly in my crotch, effectively pinning me in place and my eyes flew up to meet Karen’s insolent green gaze. I was incredibly embarrassed at what I had just confessed to, more than a little drunk and now I was getting turned on by her boot in my lap, the solid heel digging into my pussy. A slow, sensual smile slowly spread over the striking red-head’s face and my blood pressure spiked. “I know who you are now,” she drawled feather-soft, the sound like a tiger hunting in the dappled jungle. “It’s been bugging me since Dace introduced you, oh bearer of a very distinct last name, but I wasn’t completely certain. After all, what are the odds? We have something in common.”

 

Despite my internal conflict, I was intrigued. “Besides Dace?”

 

The smart remark made her flex her ankle and I hissed in reaction to the pressure against crotch and belly. “Besides Dace. Eastland.” The name of my old school flowing from her lips was totally out of context and I froze like a deer in headlights. The grin trained on me turned triumphant. “I see that I’m right. I kept in touch for a few years with Nat Green, and she told me about you. You’re the one that always had Blair in such a tizzy.”

 

“You went to Eastland?” Came out of my mouth, weak and disbelieving.

 

“Until I ran away from home when I was fourteen. We missed each other by a summer vacation.” Karen slouched a little more deeply into her chair to pin me even more effectively into my seat and I struggled to breathe against the tight tease of her boot. The green eyes left mine to drift over the crowd of friends. “It’s a snotty private school in upstate New York. Blair Warner,” the boot gave me a dig that made me moan and very nearly hunch up around the sexual pressure. “Was the queen of the old-money snobs. We’d known each other since we were little girls, running the same circles and all. I was lucky enough to be her first kiss.” The grin grew positively evil. “Well, her first kiss and a little slap and tickle. Damn, that girl had a fine body on her. Given just a little more time and I’d of done more than just grope, y’know?”

 

More laughter erupted at the suggestive tone as pieces clicked together in my mind. Gawking in disbelief, I stared at Karen Taylor. “Holy Mary… you’re Taylor… Holy shit! We all thought that she was always mooning over some guy!”

 

“I had quite the reputation with my fellow students,” Karen smirked and prodded me yet again. “But alas, I had to break their hearts and escape the clutches of the snotty upper crust.”

 

++ Karen ++

 

Oh, this was too funny. I hadn’t put the clues together until the cute Bronx cop had mentioned ‘Warner’. Then it all clicked. The damn mouthful of a name should have been enough, but seriously, what were the odds that this was her? Shaking off the thought, I studied my prey. How to prod her story out of her? Was the boot sole in her crotch enough to pull her strings? “Saved by a Warner?” I coaxed, emphasizing my request with my foot. Grunting, Jo grabbed my ankle and hunched up. “I’ll give you relief once you fess,” I promised softly and she nodded jerkily after a long moment.

 

“I went to a party and some jackass slipped me something. It’s still hazy to this day. Blair showed up and punched the asshole flat. At the time, it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. Blair shaking her sore fist out and complaining shrilly, with this guy laid out to dry.”

 

Sitting forward and sliding my ass back into my seat, I grabbed a handful of near-black hair, twisting her neck to the side, dragging her lower body over the soles and square toes of the boot. “Did you fuck her?”

 

“I don’t know!” Jo whined and I pulled her completely off her chair so that she was kneeling over the same boot I’d been tormenting her with.

 

“Bet you did,” I growled softly, enjoying the conflict and tears in her eyes. Fenris was one lucky bitch to have hooked this one. “Bet you let her take you home and lick and suck you off until you begged for mercy.” Shit, she was easy, squirming from my grip and my words. Maneuvering her strong body by the grip on her hair, I pressed Jo down only just enough to brush the square toes of my motorcycle boots against the seam of her jeans, feather-soft. “Let that pretty tongue lick up all your sweat and juice, felt all that carefully styled hair get all soft and messy against your skin. Listen to that voice get all breathless and needy…”

 

Whether or not Jo and Blair had a one-night stand or not, it was obviously a long-standing fantasy of Jo’s. Fenris looked totally amused and intrigued, and abruptly left the little side conversation she had been having with Monica. With the scrape of wood against concrete, she was close to Jo’s ass, and I felt her press her sole up against mine, doubling the stimulation to her pet. Jo jumped, made to speak, but shut up quick when I gave her scalp a squeeze and shake. “You’re a motorcycle nut, if I remember Michael talking about you.” The big blue eyes were focused steadily on mine, which I approved of. She had a real strength of character and I planned on rewarding her for it. “Think you can get yourself off on my boots?” Still nervous about the unknown presence behind her, Jo took a deep breath and her eyes turn to slits. “I’m going to let you go, Junkie. You keep your eyes on mine, got it?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” she whispered, clenching her fists tightly into my pant legs as I let her go and leaned back to watch.

 

++ Monica ++

 

After everything I’d seen over the last eight days, I was hardly surprised that Michael had been distracted by Karen and Jo. As sensual and charming as the New York lawyer was, I was almost relieved that she was focused somewhere else. This case was hell on my self-control… not to mention my libido.

 

I jumped in surprise when something prodded me in the knee, flushing scarlet when I saw that it was Dace’s boot. With the performance that Jo was putting on nearby, boots were taking on a whole new connotation. “So, what’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done?”

 

“Besides the last eight days?” I blurted out without thinking. Dace’s grin deepened in sync to Catherine’s, and Sara hid her face in the tall woman’s ribs. “Ummm… that sex show at the Bitch Slap on Friday?”

 

Dana snorted with laughter at the memory, but I wasn’t sure that she was remembering the same thing I was. The little red-head had kept me on a tight leash all night while I carefully watched the mixed crowd, occasionally derailing my train of thought with fleeting caresses. I flushed hotter, avoiding Dana’s knowing gaze. She’d been teasing more and more as the days went by. I’d bet my liver that Dace was counting the hours till one of us broke down and begged for it. Bet it was me…

 

“Well, if not that then,” I growled self-consciously at my enigmatic partner. “What?”

 

Dana smiled enigmatically. It was a riveting expression on her. “The wildest thing I’ve ever done? Hmmm…” She had everyone within earshot paying attention now. “There was a haunted house on campus every year. So my friends and I had been drinking, and I took them up on a dare.” The naughty smile deepened and nearly every eye in the place was hers now. “There was this poor geek in the drama department that was so proud of his wolfman costume. It took a little convincing, but I bagged him. Since no one called the police or campus security, I can only guess that the crowds thought I was getting mauled, not screwed.” The crowd roared with appreciation. “It was right out of Revenge of the Nerds.”

 

Abruptly, my phone buzzed, nearly making me jump out of my seat from surprise. I recognized Mulder’s number, and it was like a bucket of ice water over my libido and enjoyment of the evening. Waving vaguely to the others, I moved away from the table.

 

“Reyes.”

 

“Hey, I think we have a real promising lead. Can you get to a place where I can send an email?”

 

++ Sara ++

 

Something was coming down the pipe at us, I could just tell from Monica’s expression. She paced quietly over to Jane, trying to be unobtrusive, and they left together. My attention was split between sick curiosity and what the people at the table were still talking about. Exhaustion was making me stupid…

 

Jerking awake at Dace’s gentle jostling, I felt panic wash though me like a wave of water. “Hey, hey,” Dace soothed, tightening her loose grip. “It’s okay, Basker. Shhh. We’re right here.” Calm settled over me as my eyes focused on the pretty face I’d grown to adore over these long days in Chicago. “You look wiped, Sunshine. I think it’s time we found a real bed, hmm?” Some incoherent sound rumbled up from my chest as my sluggish brain tried to fire up on all cylinders. “Can it wait until we all get some sleep, Mon?”

 

“But… No, you’re right, we’re all dead on our feet. I just hate being this close. We’re sticking close together tonight. No arguments.”

 

“Yes ma’am.” The smirk in Dace’s tone was obvious, even without looking at her. 

 

Suddenly, Steph’s voice carried over the murmur of conversation. “Holy Artemis! It’s nearly nine am. No wonder we’re all getting loopy! No one’s going home tonight, we’ll umm… Jane, where do we put everybody?”

 

“The Boom Boom Room?”

 

“Perfect.” 

 

In a frenzy of activity, the whole gang of us were shepherded off to a big room lined in mattresses and massive heaps of pillows. There was a utilitarian bathroom adjacent, where a faceless Amazon plopped down a bulk pack of new toothbrushes, a couple tubes of toothpaste and a laundry cart of neatly folded green scrubs. Amused at the choice of sleepwear, I scrounged a pair that fit, even if the pants were too short, and waited while my packmates changed.

 

All of us in the generic green made a blur against my burning eyes, my brain damp lint inside my head. “What is this room?”

 

Yep, it was my voice that asked that. Karen took mercy on me, scooping me up like I was a child. Normally, I would have objected to the man-handling, so to speak, but I was too damn tired. Snuggling into her strong body, I went trustingly limp.

 

++ Karen ++

 

There was no doubt that the pretty forensics scientist from Las Vegas was a seductive little thing. She reminded me so much of Sam that it was a little eerie. All brains, awkwardness and shy sensuality. “During business hours this room is designated as everything goes. If you come in here, you better be ready to take on all comers.”

 

“Really?” she purred sleepily as I knelt on one of the bigger mattresses and laid her out. A strange fear flashed in her dark eyes that I couldn’t refuse. So I spooned up against her back, but she didn’t completely relax until Dace gingerly laid on her side, imperiously wedging Sara between our larger bodies. In seconds, she was out like a light. As Catherine made herself comfy against Dace’s chest, I reached out to place my hand on Dace’s hip. When I squeezed lightly, she hissed.

 

“Still sore?”

 

“Hell yes. I have no idea how the hell I’m going to sleep. My chest especially is killing me. There’s no position that I’m comfortable in.”

 

Mel materialized out of the dimness, looking impossibly regal and mysterious in her burgundy flannel jammies. “Hey lioness. Take these.” Two white pills and a paper cup of water were to be Dace’s salvation and she took them gratefully.

 

“Thanks Mel, you’re a lifesaver.”

 

Mel and Catherine stood silent vigil with me until Dace relaxed in Sara’s arms, her tense features smoothing out in sleep. I squeezed Mel’s hand in thanks and she grinned in silent understanding. As she walked out, I raked my eyes over the others in the room, immeasurably glad for their returned presence in my life. Fenris, coiled around Jo like the long-time lovers they were, Gabe and the pups dog-piled all over Olivia, who met my gaze with a reluctantly pleased grin. Tessa and Tiny had returned to their masters, and Steph had vanished, probably to her own bed in the building. The two FBI women were cute together, Dana’s head pillowed on Monica’s chest, their legs intertwined.

 

Even the lingering threat of Snake-Eyes could not disrupt the sense of well-being that lulled me to sleep.

 

++ Meg ++

 

That was the longest seventeen hours of my life since arriving in smoky, devastated downtown New York. The airports had been a mess from the icy winter and I had foolishly decided to drive. Seventeen hours on highway eighty was about fifteen too many. Thank God for the efficiency of the snowplows in the northeast…

 

Bone-tired, I knocked on door forty-two, barely able to keep myself from leaning wearily on the frame. In a moment I was looking into the face of a handsome, unshaven fellow in sweats and a ‘Gone Fishing’ shirt that had seen better days. Some kind of strange shock drifted through his eyes as he looked at me, but I suppose that I could have been more tired than I thought. “Uncanny…” he breathed and shook it off. “You must be Commander Austin. I’m Fox Mulder.”

 

“Pleased to match the voice with a face.” Shaking off my fatigue with the ease of years and years of practice, I shook his hand and followed him into the room, which had also seen better days. “Uncanny?” I had to question.

 

“You bear a striking resemblance to Inspector DeLorenzo, the civilian officer from San Francisco that volunteered to help. It’s really uncanny. Sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting company. Even my partners haven’t been here in a week.”

 

Filing away the off piece of information about DeLorenzo, I eyed him curiously. “Partners?”

 

“A couple of women agents that were drafted into the case.”

 

Mulder caught me up on what he knew of the movements of his people, and I was taken aback by how little he actually knew. When I posed the question as delicately as I could master. To my surprise, he only smiled, very unlike the control-freak FBI agents I’d met in the past.

 

“As long as Snake-Eyes is caught, I don’t care how it’s done. I’m not here for glory, I’m here to make sure that he’s stopped. My superiors are pissed off how I’ve gone about it, but I don’t give a damn.”

 

++ Mulder ++

 

I guess she liked my attitude, because I had a sneaking suspicion that she probably hadn’t meant to be so frank about Master Sergeant Dwayne Garcia. There was a personal history between them, they had dated many years ago, both new to the uniform and the life as military personnel. I stared at the photo that the Marines had on file for him. “So there was nothing unusual about him?”

 

“Nope. He was calm and friendly and well-liked. No indication at all of the behavior attributed to Snake-Eyes.”

 

There were pieces missing in the story, I just knew it. Casting back through my memories and theories and years of practice, I took a chance. “Did he have a certain type of, I dunno exactly how to put it, an animal magnetism?”

 

The faint flush on Austin’s cheeks answered the question and I fished more carefully through my memories. What the hell had Blair Sandburg written in his theories of Sentinels? The fact that the man had refuted the book didn’t matter to me, I knew the ring of truth when I read it. Fear had silenced Sandburg, not lies. “Did Sergeant Garcia go through a prolonged time of stressful isolation?”

 

The question caught Austin completely off guard and she dropped her eyes to her laptop, where I knew Garcia’s file was displayed. “Strange that you ask that. He was separated from his squad in Bosnia.”

 

There it was, that tickle of awareness that I was close. “When?”

 

“Late 1997. He was eventually found and returned to the States, severely traumatized. Do you think that has something to do with the killings?”

 

Sandburg had written that often the Sentinel abilities were triggered by periods of isolation, where the animal powers awakened to help in basic survival. “I’m betting on it. Where was he taken?”

 

Again, the blue eyes dropped to the computer screen. “Ironically, right here, just north of Chicago. That’s where he disappeared.”

 

The pieces were falling into place, and I could picture a map of North America in my mind. The cities Snake-Eyes had killed in lit up like beacons, creating a vast, lazy spiral. Detroit, New York, Boston, Miami, Atlanta, Denver, Las Vegas, Vancouver B.C….

 

And his unfinished business here in Chicago.

 

“Commander,” I heard myself say as though from a long distance away. “Do you have a sidearm?” She shook her head, eyes suddenly huge in her face. “Take mine. I need you to go find my fellow agents and get to DeLorenzo. Things are going to happen quickly now, call it a feeling.”

 

Without even changing out of her battered khaki uniform, Meg took the loaded Glock and was gone, leaving me in the ringing silence of the hotel room.

 

Now, all I could do was continue to wait.

 

++ Dace ++

 

Bleary with drugs and sleep, I woke up to the muted sounds of the club around me. 

 

“Oh, thank goodness,” Sara breathed nearby. “The Amazons weren’t sure how to wake you without getting their heads torn off. The club opened nearly two hours ago. You’ve slept for more than twelve hours.”

 

Twelve hours?

 

Groaning, I sat up, and was relieved that my ass and pussy didn’t do more than ache bitchily. A glance under the scrub top revealed that Sylvia’s artwork had settled into sullen red and black stripes on my chest. Damned if Mel wasn’t right, I really was a good healer. Accepting Sara’s hand, I let her help me to my feet and prod me out the door, where the small crowd happily piled into the Boom Boom Room for some recreation.

 

Sara prodded me along, her body language nervous and skittish. If only I could shake off the lethargy of drugs and sleep… I was suddenly in a bathroom, where towels and clothing were laid out. “Here. They left out these for you,” Sara explained breathlessly and my attention finally sharpened. “Monica and Dana will come looking for you soon. I’ll keep an eye out.”

 

A startled squeak when I grabbed her hair would have amused me under different circumstances. All of my effort went into using my feral charm into calming my nervous girl, as did the strong grip. “What happened while I was sleeping?”

 

Swallowing hard, Sara tried to collect her thoughts. “Dana showed me the picture of the guy they think is Snake-Eyes.” Her eyes went dark with fear. “I… I think it’s him… but he looks too… too… normal.”

 

Suddenly, I understood. The picture would have to be before he went off the deep end. Back when he was normal, before his cat had driven him mad. The burn of connection between his power and mine made my pulse race, his presence nearly palatable in the room.

 

A whimper of fear brought me back to the present, where Sara shook like a leaf in my arms, too terrified to even try and escape.

 

++ Sara ++

 

It gleamed there, in her eyes.

 

That impossible golden energy that made her something other than she was. My upper brain, the smart places that made me more than just a primitive animal, had no clue how to deal and shut down. The primitive parts of me looked at the hungry, threatened predator and knew that this was what prey saw as they died on teeth and claws.

 

Fear was an inadequate word.

 

Then, as abruptly as it had happened, it was over, and Dace was once again looking at me with soft, concerned blue eyes. The contrast and the relief made me sag, and I was on my knees before I knew it. Her thigh was solid and stable as I clung and let the terror and adrenaline drain away.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said oh-so-softly and stroked my head like she would a scared a child. In that moment, I saw a bit of what she must be like as a cop and the thought calmed me further. Whatever happened in the future, I knew that part of me would forever belong to her, and this wild and fearful place that she brought me to so often.

 

That knowledge gave me power.

 

Taking a steadying breath, I leaned back only far enough to meet her eyes. “I need you. Please. Rough and mean. I need you to ground me. Please.”

 

A wild, sexy energy flared in Dace in response to my plea and I felt my fear turn to dripping anticipation. Thank God I’d showered already, because I knew that I was in for a sweaty good time.

 

“Find a room for us to play in. Tell Catherine. I’ll find you soon. Go.”

 

And with a long, loving kiss, I was shoved out the door to do as I was told.

 

++ Snake-Eyes ++

 

Close.

 

Close now.

 

All the nights of stealth and patience would bring me my feast. The memory of the yellow woman who had escaped had faded in the temptation of this wonderful prize. Lips pulled back from blunt teeth, I scented the air for her.

 

The she-cat was here, prowling amid the useless humans and their ridiculous mating games. Deep in my head, my constant companion now, he paced back and forth like a caged wild thing, desperate to escape. He smelled the female that was the yin to his yang, and was desperate to claim her as his. I understood, having glimpsed the golden creature that tempted us so. Tall, strong, alert, the color of summer, she was exquisite. 

 

There. There! There was my prey, my mate, my goal. Lithe and stunning among the filthy humans, she flowed among them to a unknown goal. Ah, the dark fawn and the small golden woman that made me growl. She was what kept me away, the fear of that small, brindled Coyote and the power she held over what I knew both the golden one and I both were. She could stop us with a power that was both magnetic and frightening.

 

Dressed in the musky leathers of my preferred prey, the golden one set upon the fawn’s willing body, offered up as proper sacrifice to her superior might. Closer I skulked, ears and smell trained on them, hidden in the playrooms of this place. The fawn called out in pleasure, tinged with fear as the golden female growled in mating pleasure.

 

The sound made me pause for an instant in my hunt, enraptured by the sound.

 

She should not waste herself on these weak creatures. My hand closed unerringly around a blunt object, as it had all the other times I had killed humans. If she would not be mine, than I would have to force her.

 

There, on the other side of that insubstantial barrier that made up the high-walled cubicle and its flimsy door. Her smell, thick and musky as she released her pleasure over the fawn, who still cried out.

 

A name called behind me.

 

A name I knew, but no longer knew.

 

A leap, a thrust of awkward human muscles, I looked down where the golden female sweated over the dark fawn, thrusting like a tomcat in heat, grunting and growling in pleasure.

 

She would be mine! Mine and no others!

 

I leapt, swinging my weapon. It would end here.

 

One way or another.

 

**To Be Continued…**


	25. Final Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG-13, again, violence themes.

++ Meg ++

 

It was happening too fast! For crying out loud, I hadn’t even checked in with Great Lakes so that they could send over a couple of Shore Patrol to actually take Garcia down. Now, I was racing to a nearby leather club, still in uniform, with a borrowed weapon and my stomach churning with nerves. I knew that I was going about this all wrong, but there had been something in Mulder’s eye…

 

Something that made the urgency churn my guts into a pool of acid, the danger like blood on my tongue. 

 

It never occurred to me how weird it was that the leather and feather clad guardswomen at the door of ‘The Staff and Scroll’ merely leered knowingly at my uniform before waving me through like they knew who I was. Guess I really did look like this DeLorenzo.

 

I burned with the knowledge of the gun in my coat pocket. It was the only thing that stood between me and the sweet man who had become a monster.

 

Some providence, some guardian angel or karma watched over me, as I danced through the crowd, led strictly by instinct. The higher I climbed in the huge building, the rougher the crowd grew. Some corner of my brain remembered propriety, reaching up to jerk off my brass name plate and the colorful ribbon bars that signified my service to my country.

 

Someone intercepted me, a pretty woman with curly, dark-blonde hair, speaking at me like she knew who I was. My blank, urgent look silenced her with confusion. All I could hear was my heartbeat, like a metronome keeping time of the irretrievable moments as they slipped by.

 

Some cosmic force hit the slow button on the remote, and I saw him.

 

Moving with a silent, inhuman grace, Dwayne slipped from the shadows, hefting a thick chunk of carved wood.

 

His name echoed in a scream from my throat, the gun was heavy in my hand. The crowd evaporated, leaving me a clear shot to him.

 

Too fast!

 

Moving like liquid shadow, he hesitated at the name he clearly barely remembered, violently bashing aside a figure that lunged at him from behind and I saw the wild cat he had become coil and leap.

 

Clean on top of a ten-foot wall.

 

++ Dana ++

 

Crowds gain their own personality when stressed. This is a basic fact of human behavior, and any half-witted observer knew it.

 

This crowd was suddenly afraid.

 

Instantaneously abandoning my quest to find a wireless signal in this damn building so that I could check in with Mulder, I fell back to years of FBI training. Even as I fished out my gun from the small of my back, Monica was my taller shadow, doing exactly as I had done.

 

“There!” She shouted over the fearful crowd and I saw it.

 

Two figures, one a shadowy man with intent, the other… was that Dace? In a Navy uniform of all things? No… the hair was long and coiled in a failing bun at the back of her head. She screamed out a name. “Garcia!”

 

The shadowy man faltered, regained his single-minded track and I was in motion. The Dace-doppelganger had a gun and that was causing the crowd fear. The man viciously clubbed aside a figure that melted out of nowhere and was leaping over the wall into one of the playrooms. I couldn’t comprehend how he had made the jump. The woman was charging the door, her body desperate.

 

I heard the sickening crack of breaking bones from across the noisy room and a blood-curdling chorus of screams, at least one of them barely human.

 

Monica bellowed for the crowd to move, we were running for the point where we would intersect the blonde doppelganger…

 

She shouldered the flimsy door, which splintered under her slender weight.

 

A single shot…

 

++ Michael ++

 

All I’d wanted was a goddamned snack for fuck sake! Like a slow-motion sequence, the climax began to play out around me. Scrambling to catch up, I caught sight of Dace, who couldn’t be Dace, in a Navy uniform, of all the incongruous things, and years of discipline and training welled up from my brain.

 

Protect the others in your department. Without thinking, I dropped my plate and lunged at the man who was obviously her target.

 

The man from the sketch that had brought Catherine and Sara here.

 

The man that had killed my old friend. 

 

Hatred splintered up my spine for what he had done to Cheyenne, and it made me stupid and hot-headed. 

 

Nearby, my pack was frozen in time.

 

Except for Olivia, who I saw slowly come into motion, dropping into a defensive crouch so like the dark dogs that Dace had nicknamed her after.

 

Dace…

 

This bastard was here to kill Dace!

 

Over my dead body!

 

As he pivoted inhumanly fast, eyes widening at how close I was, I feared that my dead body is exactly what my impulse might ask of me.

 

His arm blurred and all I knew was a flash-fire of agony splitting my skull.

 

Oh Jo… Gabe… pups… I’m so sorry…

 

Then empty darkness.

 

++ Jo ++

 

Something changed in Michael between one heartbeat and the next. 

 

Danger.

 

Like a racing greyhound, she coiled and lunged, her face twisted with determination and hate. Her target flinched aside, knowing that she had him.

 

Except that he flowed like smoke, like thought, like rushing water, and side-stepped her grasp. I cried out in denial, my mouth still in a horrified ‘o’ as the club flashed in the shadows.

 

Like a bird shot in flight, Michael’s lithe body was crushed from the fluid leap it had stretched into. Even as my brain froze in horror and even as I knew I was screaming, I was in motion. The attacker flowed up the ten foot wall like it was a street curb, a flash of yellow and khaki hot on his heels.

 

I was still screaming in tandem to the chorus of pain and fear behind that door!

 

Door splintering…

 

Michael’s red blood on the floor.

 

A single shot that over-rode all other sensations, making us all shy away.

 

In an instant, Olivia spoke our hearts in a glance, and she lunged for the splintered door as I dropped to Michael’s side.

 

The blonde and khaki woman smashed back against the wall by the shadow man, his blood still in a red cloud behind him.

 

Thunder roaring like all the beasts of hell.

 

An entire clip being emptied.

 

++ Catherine ++

 

It happened so fast.

 

Sara was writhing in ecstasy as Dace rode her hard and gentle, the dildo strapped around her hips the focus of their combined pleasure. Sara’s wrists tight in my fists where I held her down, coaxing her ever higher with mindless sex-talk.

 

Heard a name screamed, felt the rush of terror, drawing my eyes up

 

And up.

 

And up.

 

Deadly and sinuous, he perched there atop the wall separating us from the club for only the briefest of moments. In that meeting of my gaze to his mad, wild, yellowed eyes, I knew my enemy.

 

Dace felt it now, pulling away from her possessive crouch over Sara’s prone body, that strong right arm coming up in automatic defense. Even as he came down, smashing his club over Dace’s arm and head, the dispassionate scientist part of me noted that she had taken the hit away from where he had been aiming; the base of the neck, where the blow would have shredded her spine.

 

Everything was happening too fast! Sara was screaming, the door splintered as Dace crumbled in a spray of blood. Snake-Eyes raised the club again, his wild eyes intent on me…

 

The door splintered, a gunshot as he whirled, red blood misting as the bullet whizzed past my ear.

 

There was a brief image of a woman in the doorway, a mirror of my Cougar, sprawled atop the still-screaming Sara. Then Snake-Eyes blurred again, driving her smaller body into the doorframe with a sickening crunch of breaking bones.

 

A sparkle of metal in florescent lights… the gun spiraling away from her hand.

 

I had never wanted this life, this deadly edge of danger that the blue line walked. But, I had done it before and could do it again. I would be damned to the deepest, blackest bowels of every hell humankind had ever created for ourselves before I just stood here and let this maniac finish us all off.

 

My body was moving, the Coyote howling in joy as I gave in completely to her, lunging and twisting, the gun fitting perfectly into my hand, the yellowed eyes coming closer…

 

Closer…

 

Closer…

 

The clip was empty before I hit the ground.

 

++ Olivia ++

 

At the first shot, I was down, rolling in a near-somersault, reaching for the non-existent sidearm at my hip. Roaring shots deafened me at this proximity, I could hear the sickening wet crunch of the projectiles shredding their target, the wet rending of someone’s flesh being chewed to hamburger.

 

Click.

 

That was my signal to get up, to stop this at any cost, including my own life. That’s what cops did, after all.

 

The image was burned into my brain for all time.

 

Outlined in the bright lights above, his arms thrown up and out as though begging heaven for mercy, his misted blood a halo around him.

 

With a sickening crash, the serial killer coined Snake-Eyes collapsed only inches from my knees. One glance at the ruin of his broad chest was enough for me, and I scanned the room in desperation.

 

There was blood everywhere, like a horror movie set.

 

Sara was still crying out, Dace sprawled atop her, bloodied and still as death. Catherine was flat on the floor, her eyes as round as saucers, still clutching the smoking gun.

 

I was jostled suddenly and the slow-mo seemed to abruptly snap back to real time. “Holy shit!” Monica yelped at my ear and the noise of the terrified crowd swept over me. “Get an ambulance! Hurry! Oh God! Dace!”

 

It became a blur of chaos after that. I checked on Catherine, who was obviously deep in shock, Monica tried to calm Sara, while Dana poured over Dace’s too-still body.

 

After all this, did we lose her to him?

 

++ Darya ++

 

I hadn’t been sleeping well with Karen gone, and had been spending more time at Janet’s place than away. “You’ll have to start charging me rent,” I joked weakly as Janet plopped down onto the couch beside me and handed over one of the mugs of tea in her hands.

 

“S’ok,” she waved me off. “You know as well as I do that Emily sleeps better with Fawn close by.”

 

It was true. Especially since that peculiar conversation with Dace on the phone five days ago. Something was bothering my baby, but she couldn’t seem to articulate what it was. She was agitated and quiet, like she was waiting for something awful to happen.

 

Needless to say, I had been on pins and needles.

 

Then it happened.

 

Like the flash of headlights bearing down in the dark, the flash of deadly claws in a killing stroke, it hit.

 

A terrifying vortex of fear that spiraled up my spine and made my brain cringe.

 

But all of that was forgotten as I heard Emily start screaming upstairs. I never felt the hot tea spill across my lap, I never felt the ground or the stairs under my feet as I flew to her, gathered her shaking body and Fawn’s to me, holding them suffocating close.

 

“Oh mommy,” my baby sobbed. “Something awful’s happened.”

 

It was all I could get out of her. It was tears and the shakes and, “something awful’s happened.” Fawn remained close, her little face uncharacteristically serious and focused. Somehow, I felt that the girl was doing more good than I was, and was shaken and nonplussed when the girls fell asleep in a pile.

 

“What was that?” Janet asked quietly from where she had been holding a confused and frightened Cubby nearby.

 

“I wish I knew.”

 

++ Mel ++

 

How could I have missed all of this? Happening right under my nose? Fighting against the crowds pouring down the stairs to get away from the chaos of the top club, I gasped for breath on the forth floor.

 

And nearly jumped out of my skin when Pony grabbed my arm. “C’mon,” the head of security ordered me grimly and bodily shoved her way to the fifth floor and Jesse’s favorite place in the whole damn empire. This part of the club had been lovingly crafted by his vision, a place where kink and taboo had safe shadows to romp in. 

 

And someone had violated that.

 

Then I heard a voice I knew calling out in the now nearly-empty playroom area. “Holy shit! Get an ambulance! Hurry! Oh God! Dace!”

 

Oh goddess… Snake-Eyes had finally struck.

 

It looked as though the FBI doctor had the playroom under control, so I fought the urge to get involved and went to where Jo was hovering helplessly over what, I realized with a jolt, was Fenris. “Jeezus, Fen,” I grumbled and took her skull gently in my hands. “Haven’t you learned to duck? Help me roll her to her side.” Shaking, Jo did as I ordered, while I very carefully kept her neck from moving. “Open her mouth so that she doesn’t choke or cough on all this blood.” And it was a hell of a lot of blood, pouring from her nose. The right side of Fen’s face was a purpled mess, blood coagulated in a blunt-trauma wound that was probably going to need stitches.

 

When Michael stirred lightly, I fired Jo a warning glance to remain calm. “Hey klutz,” I teased lightly. “Still trying to stop things with your head?” The right hand slowly curled up, leaving the middle finger up and I chuckled. “You’re such a Marine sometimes. Good girl. Your neck’s probably fine, but me and the Junkyard Dog are going to stay right here until the ambulance comes.”

 

None of us could keep our eyes on the nearby bloody playroom for long.

 

++ Kerry ++

 

It was an extremely unpleasant shock when I burst into trauma two, to see the staff methodically cutting away a leather jacket from an arm that was not supposed to be at several sickening angles. This was excessively bloody and I could hear John calling for blood units even as I stepped closer. None of that shocked me, as I’d seen far worse, but the familiar face under all the blood froze me in horror.

 

“You know her?” Chuny asked me and I could only nod. What the hell had happened? “Maybe you could work on one then. Look just alike, it’s kinda freaky. Or there’s a busted nose in three, same altercation.”

 

Still a bit in shock, I pushed through the doors to find more of my staff in controlled chaos around a second blonde. Even with her face pinched into the full backboard, I could see that Chuny was right, she did look nearly identical to Dace.

 

Susan was carefully cutting away the khaki uniform while Malik and Mel held the woman’s body immobile on her side. “Severe trauma back here. Call surgery, I’m betting we have a broken spine. What the hell did this to her?”

 

The familiarity of my job took on a surreal quality as I helped Susan with the blonde woman and Mel, who I swear had the night off, moved back into the room containing Dace. Abby fished out a wallet, confirming that the uniform was authentic. Soon, Navy officer Meg Austin was handed off to surgery, stripped and cleaned up as best we could while pussy-footing around her damaged back. The back of her skull wasn’t much better, the flesh pulpy and splintered feeling. The woman would be lucky to survive her injuries.

 

I checked in on trauma three, watching Luka gently check over the dark-haired woman’s purpled face. Since she was awake, though pretty much useless with pain and drugs, I left him to it.

 

I watched as Dace was wheeled off by a worried Elizabeth, the shattered arm propped up carefully. My new pal was in the best of hands now. 

 

A chorus of worried and traumatized faces swiveled to me as I stepped into chairs. Some of them I recognized from the poker game, and could make several educated guesses about the others. Sara was covered in blood, hopefully not her own, and I went to her first.

 

++ Sara ++

 

My ears were still ringing with my own screams and the roar of deafening gunfire. Nothing seemed to penetrated the numbness as I clung to Catherine’s hand and trembled.

 

The shadow of him falling from the sky, silhouetted against the bright lights, weapon raised. The crunch that echoed down Dace’s body into my own. Excruciating pleasure gone in an instant as terror washed over me.

 

How I despised hospitals…

 

“Dace?” I whispered around the endless ringing, watching Kerry’s eyes focusing compassionately on mine.

 

“She’s with Elizabeth and the surgery team now,” she explained calmly, kindly, taking and stroking the hand I had helplessly raised to her. “All we can do is wait now and see what kind of damage was done to her skull and arm.”

 

Unbidden, the image of Dace’s warm grin flashed behind my eyes, superimposed by the shock and pain as that maniac smashed down into her forearm and head.

 

Not releasing my hand, Kerry bent and looked into Catherine’s dilated pupils. “Honey, I think you’re in shock. Let’s get you cleaned up and warmed up, hmm? Both of you.”

 

I remembered Abby, when she came in to help get us cleaned up and check on Catherine. All I was wearing was a bloody sheet that Dana had pulled off the padded table where Dace had been so pleasantly screwing me before all hell had broken loose. My clothes were still in the crime scene at the club, I was sure. Woodenly scrubbing Dace’s and Snake-Eyes’ blood that seemed to be splattered over nearly every square inch of my skin, I accepted the towel and clothes that Abby held out for me. 

 

Somehow, the green scrubs cracked a smile that made my face hurt. How odd that I would be in the hospital gear twice in less than twenty-four hours. The smile split something loose deep inside, and I saw my agony reflected on Catherine’s face.

 

Clinging together, we wept.

 

++ Karen ++

 

What the hell had gone wrong? As much as I desperately wanted to go to the hospital with Dace and Fenris, I remained behind, ever the dutiful soldier. At this moment I was Agent Mulder’s backup as he implacably prevented the local police from approaching the scene. They were not happy about it.

 

Shaken, but professional, Dana and Monica were across the room, doing whatever forensics people did at murder scenes.

 

Shying away from the thought of murder, I listened to the buzz of the women’s voices and tried not to obsess over my pals in the emergency rooms.

 

Mulder finally chose one cop who hardly looked old enough to carry a gun, much less vote, and told the others to get lost. “If you want to be useful, secure the perimeter,” Mulder growled irritably and walked away. Grumbling like a pack of mean dogs, Chicago’s finest slunk away and I let loose a long breath before gesturing the green cop to proceed me to the scene.

 

Officer Mitchell looked positively ill at the carnage, but gamely kept his dinner down. Good man. The damage done to Sergeant Garcia, AKA Shake-Eyes, was horrific. Twenty rounds to the upper chest, the shots fairly close together had turned his flesh to pulp and bone splinters. He lay on the unforgiving concrete, eyes staring up sightlessly, his expression oddly peaceful.

 

It was more than a little creepy.

 

Shaking off my lingering shivers, I recognized Monica’s stress and grabbed her arm in a vice grip.

 

“Wha…” Dilated brown eyes stared blankly at me and I scrounged up my most compassionate side, the one I used when Emily was hurt or scared.

 

“Hey, you okay?”

 

For a long moment, she looked torn, and Dana’s eyes came to rest on us. Her stress was as sharp, but she controlled it better. Tears washed the earthy color like rain and I sighed, pulling Monica into a big bear hug. It made me feel better to hold someone, my own pain and stress over Dace and Michael and the blonde stranger in the Navy khakis lessened by the sharing.

 

After a moment, Dana came over and leaned against Monica’s back, to add her strength and misery to our little huddle.

 

++ Olivia ++

 

(1-14-02)

 

My eyes were burning with fatigue and felt like someone had poured coarse salt in them. Sunlight was growing in the glass door that led to the ambulance bay. Daylight in winter in the northern half of the U.S. meant that it was around 8 am.

 

It was after 10 pm when the hell had swamped over us like a ship going under.

 

Ten hours…

 

Dace had been in surgery for around ten hours. 

 

My left shoulder was numb where Sara was sound asleep against me, and Catherine was propped against her. The nasty coffee in my right hand had long gone icy and undrinkable. I hardly cared. Zo had come to the hospital at about two in the morning when the Amazons had told her what was going on. Her presence was oddly reassuring. Jo was sprawled next to Zo, dozing fitfully, only because the nurses had chased her out of Michael’s room. Her stress was palatable, even in sleep.

 

All of us were feeling the anxiety. We had all gotten attached to Dace, there was no denying it. In short, intense days, she had charmed us with her feral charisma and odd humor. And that bastard may have snuffed that out.

 

I was startled as Karen suddenly stumbled into the nearly-empty waiting room. She looked as bad as I felt, and Monica on her heels was just as wasted. My small movement woke Sara abruptly, and her eyes snapped open, wide and fearful. Catherine reacted just the same and Karen rushed over to help reassure them.

 

After petting and calming Catherine, Karen looked soberly into the bloodshot blue eyes. “Agent Mulder got a phone call from your supervisor about an hour ago. He got a call from my family as well. Seems that our daughters woke up, screaming, out of a dead sleep and are home, inconsolable without us.” The words sank in.

 

“Lindsey?”

 

“Yes. She needs you.” The words hurt Karen to say, after all, that was her soul sister upstairs in surgery. “The Lady is prepared to get us home this afternoon, but we have to go now. There’s a nasty storm rolling in from the north.” A soundless shake of Catherine’s head was all she could managed and my heart ached at the compassion, pain and understanding in Karen’s green eyes. “We have to. Dace will understand. Monica will keep us posted on her condition.” The dark-haired agent nodded emphatically in agreement.

 

“I’ll stay,” I heard myself volunteer and was warmed by Karen’s grateful look.

 

“Me too,” Zo added in sleepily, rubbing her eyes like a child. “She won’t be alone.”

 

“Thanks guys. Sara, you have to decide to stay or go.”

 

++ Zo ++

 

All of my energy was bent to willing Sara to go home. Sure, she wanted to stay, but her trauma over being trapped in a hospital was as obvious as the swollen veins in her eyes. There was a deep, old hurt burning behind her wide gaze. 

 

A long beat passed, and Sara’s wide stare was only broken when Karen gently touched her knee. A stilted nod made me sag with relief. My sensitivities were buzzing with her stress. Being around it long term would give me migraines at best, and probably an ulcer at worst.

 

It took some more coaxing from the rest of us to get the Las Vegas women moving. Hugging them both tightly, I reluctantly pressed them into a cab beside Karen. Olivia and Monica stood sentinel beside me in the frigid cold as we watched the tail lights vanish around the corner.

 

The spell was broken when Elizabeth’s voice called out my name. “Zo? I have an update.” The woman looked like hell, and I scared up a cup of coffee and a bagel before I let her talk. We found a quiet corner in chairs and she eyed the three of us with mixed emotions. “Well,” she began falteringly, her British accent thick with fatigue. “We seem to have successfully rebuilt the arm, even if it looks like something out of a horror movie right now.” I knew from experience that she was being uncharacteristically blunt, since we were friends and not just random people. “She’s still unconscious, and her brain activity is erratic.”

 

“Meaning?” Monica asked hesitantly and Elizabeth sighed heavily.

 

“She’s in a coma. How long it will last is anyone’s guess.”

 

Monica swallowed hard, like she was trying to keep from being sick. “I… we have to contact the San Francisco PD and let them know what happened. Is there anything else we should know?”

 

Elizabeth shook her head wearily. “No. She’s in ICU alongside Commander Austin. We’re still trying to get a hold of Great Lakes Navy base.”

 

“She’s not from around here,” Monica added, still sounding very far away. “She flew in from New York.”

 

++ Captain Alison Krennick ++

 

Some unnamed worry had rousted me out of bed earlier than I was required to be at the twenty-seventh precinct. There was no message from Meg and I was feeling a nagging concern. Since we had both been transferred out of Admiral Chegwidden’s office at JAG headquarters all those years ago, Meg and I had been working side by side. She felt like an extension of my own body and career.

 

Honestly, I felt naked and vaguely incompetent without her assisting me.

 

The anxiousness didn’t fade as the morning grew brighter in the few windows in the bullpen and the local staff filed in, grumbling about Monday mornings. A sharp rap on my door frame actually made me jump, and I looked up sharply to see Lennie Briscoe lounging there. It said something for my mood that the familiar Monday morning offering of Seattle’s Best Coffee in his hands failed to even make me smile.

 

“Good mornin’,” he said cheerfully and then sobered at my demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

 

How did I explain that I was worried? Austin was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I’d learned that much in six years. Still…

 

Before I realized I was even doing it, I blurted out the entire story from the wee hours of Sunday morning. Not even thirty-six hours had passed. “Am I panicking?”

 

Lennie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer my somewhat desperate question. “She’s not answering her phone?”

 

“No. I’ve tried several times. It goes straight to voicemail.”

 

My phone trilled and I jumped in surprise. It said something for my state of mind that I didn’t want to answer it.

 

“Captain Krennick.”

 

“Captain? This is Agent Monica Reyes, FBI. There’s… there’s been an accident involving Lieutenant Commander Austin.”

 

Grasping Lennie’s offered hand, I swallowed hard and wished again that I hadn’t picked the damn thing up…

 

**To Be Continued…**


	26. Checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The healing begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG.
> 
> Pairings: Nothing new, just revisiting some old pals.

++ Michael ++

 

(1-15-02)

 

Completely devastated from what had happened to me, I shut everyone out. Only Gabe would not be moved, resolutely waiting until the hospital released me on Tuesday and bringing the car around. Because of a horrible ice storm, we were trapped in Chicago, and Gabe would not be persuaded to take our chances. Since I had chased off the others with my abrasive agony, Gabe had not spoken a word to me, but remained close in silent understanding. Even as he wouldn’t let me out of his sight.

 

So we were holed up with the Amazons, waiting for the weather to clear and I had to face my memories and my thoughts, racing round and round in my head.

 

Poor Jo had teared up when I’d snarled at her to go away. Pai and Boot were just as devastated. But one look in a mirror was proof as to why I had done it.

 

And to think that I had believed that I had outgrown vanity.

 

The gory purple completely distorted the entire right side of my head, from nose, to ear to jaw, turning a sickly blend of yellow and green at the edges. Tiny white butterfly bandages stood out against the angry mottling. It was my eyes that scared me more than just the bruising, though. The whites of my eyes were all bloody red, like some kind of monster movie effect, capillaries having burst when Snake-Eyes hit me. The dark raccoon mask wrapped around my left eye as well, fading towards my temple. My nose wasn’t much better, swollen and discolored, the corner of my mouth lopsided from the puffy bruising.

 

The door suddenly burst open, silhouetting a tall, curvaceous figure in the hall light. “Enough sulking,” Mel growled and I bristled. “You’re being an ass, Fen. Now sit there and shut the hell up while I try and help.” She was right and I deflated, feeling tears prick my eyes. In a moment, Mel had plopped herself in a chair and set aside the little Styrofoam cooler in her hands aside. Taking my hands, she looked seriously at me and I set aside my damned, insufferable pride. “Your pups will forgive you being an ass if you ask them to, and you know it. Gabe already has, we all have. You took a nasty shock. Dace is still out, but she’s a fighter, and I think the prognosis will be good in the long run. Corday spent an entire night slaving over that mangled arm. It’s a medical journal in the making. It’ll be as good as new, you mark my words.” That news actually coaxed a half-smile to my sore face. “Bet you still feel like hell, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” I admitted reluctantly, and Mel smiled warmly.

 

“I have an unorthodox idea to help,” she explained and went for the cooler, setting it in my lap. “Don’t freak, because you might think it’s gross, but…” From the cooler came a plastic container marked with medical symbols and jargon. There were wet-looking, dark globs stuck on the interior. “They’re leeches.” Despite myself, I recoiled, making Mel chuckle. “They were raised for sterile medical use and were a bitch to get in the middle of winter like this. Give them an hour or so, and all that swelling will be pretty much gone. I can’t do anything with the discoloring, but I can do this for you.”

 

It took a minute for me to swallow my natural revulsion, but right now I’d eat the damn things if it would get me home and healed quicker. I had some bridges to rebuild and in a hurry.

 

++ Mel ++

 

Go figure that humanity had come full circle to leeches again. I didn’t have any of the ‘civilized’ squicks of most of humanity. That was Xena’s doing, for she was good at keeping me level-headed. With a pair of padded tweezers, I placed three of the little slimies on Fen’s damaged flesh. “Soon enough, they’ll bloat up on all that useless blood under your skin and fall right off,” I explained and Michael only grimaced. “You’re one of the ballsiest people I know,” I added wryly. “Most would have just freaked, and not listened.”

 

“Oo-rah,” Michael said half-heartedly and I grinned. The Marine chant had never sounded less enthusiastic. “You sure the pups are going to take me back?”

 

“Duh,” Gabe chimed in from the door, and I grabbed Fen’s chin when she would have looked over.

 

“If you’re going to eavesdrop, then bring your butt in here,” I ordered the red-head and he did as he was told. It was a long, pregnant glance between the old friends, and I busied myself with the little container of leeches and the cooler.

 

“You were an ass, Grace, but we love you anyway. An apology goes a damn long way.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and I smiled.

 

“We can hug and get mushy after Mel’s done medievaling you,” Gabe chuckled, once again completely at ease. “Your old Marine cronies would be so proud seeing you like this, covered in leaches.”

 

“Har, har,” Fen mocked back. “Are the pups okay?”

 

“Pai and Leslie are with Ian and Ben, so don’t worry about them. Dunno where Junkie vanished off to, but she mentioned something about worrying about her daughter. She’s the wild card now.”

 

“Usually is,” Fen sighed. “I’ll make it up to her somehow.”

 

There was a long moment where we all traded glances. It was Gabe that finally cracked the quiet, his demeanor absolutely serious. “Now we just hope that Dace wakes up and is still her.”

 

“Amen,” I murmured quietly and Michael nodded slowly.

 

++ Jo ++

 

If I had ever been more glad to see Jamie, I couldn’t remember it. At the airport, where she’d accompanied Jinny to her flight and then waited hours for me, we clung together like it had been longer than eight days. I even called her in sick to school the next day, amused that she was so shocked at my unethical impulse.

 

We walked the familiar neighborhood, where we had both grown up in different eras. There was rap music rumbling deafeningly from too many woofers now, where I had once heard disco as it evolved with rock into the eighties.

 

It was a great night out that was sobered by a call to Olivia in Chicago. Dace had yet to awaken, but was stable in the ICU.

 

Jamie held me while I cried quietly.

 

So much had happened to me that I was left raw and vulnerable. The day of blissful normalcy with Jamie only made the contrast of my recent past more vivid. I didn’t dare call Michael, not the way she had snarled at me like a bear with a paw in a trap.

 

With a day away from the intensity to give me some perspective, I was pretty certain that it wasn’t me that had made her growl so violently. She was a woman not accustomed to being laid low, to being hurt and vulnerable. That thought kept the worst of my despair at bay, after my initial breakdown with Jamie.

 

We’d finished the night watching our favorite movie, Mary Poppins, curled up like we had done Jamie’s whole life. Rick even dropped by, curling up on Jamie’s other side, and I ruffled his hair. We might be a really strange, unorthodox of family, but it worked for us.

 

My ‘extended family’ would fall into place in time.

 

Or so I hoped.

 

++ the cat ++

 

(1-16-02)

 

Our home.

 

This blue-tinged place of wonderful smells, of rich soil and decades of pine needles under our sensitive paws. Of dappled sun in the trees. Of the sweet scent of water and plants and prey.

 

Was I real to her?

 

This blue shaded place was the only place that I felt real. 

 

The silence from my human part was unnerving, and I searched endlessly for her in this forest home that suddenly seemed to empty, to still…

 

Almost threatening.

 

Forever had passed while I tracked her faint smell through the trees, upward where the ground grew hard and bare, and the cold of the clouds pressed close and damp. My paws ached, my tail weary where it steered me through the brutal terrain. So cold and lonely and desolate, this place!

 

Nowhere left to go… a cliff dropping to swirling nothingness. The loneliness pressed against me as I pressed flat to the cold stone and peered fearfully over the edge. A quiet trill escaped me, like a mother cat calling to her cubs.

 

Are you there?

 

Again, that quiet call into the unnatural quiet of the swirling mist beneath me.

 

Are you there?

 

Here… I’m here. So lost, so cold. Come to me. Find me. Please.

 

Lonely, incomplete, scared to my bones, I hesitated on that precipice. What she asked of me was impossible… but I could draw on her human strength. For the first time I could truly appreciate the strengths and weaknesses that we both shared and mirrored.

 

And I leapt.

 

++ Dace ++

 

The soft, almost bird-like call whispered over my mind, alerting me to the pain in my body. No, no, I couldn’t face it.

 

Are you there?

 

Again, that motherly note, more urgent now.

 

Are you there?

 

Such a plaintive call, so lonely and scared. I knew her, that tawny strength that made me greater than the throngs of humanity around me, even as she kept me separate from them. We needed each other, I knew that.

 

Here… I’m here. So lost, so cold. Come to me. Find me. Please.

 

Warmth flooded through me, returning strength to my damaged body, blazing like healing sunlight over the pain and lethargy. Heartbeats passed as my senses returned to me, soft cloth against my torso and legs, something hard and agonizing locked around my burning right arm, my head bound snugly. The antiseptic smell of hospital in my nostrils, on my tongue, dry as sand. Humming machinery, the distant babble of voices, the push-pull of the respirator and the beep of a heart monitor, keeping time. With the greatest of efforts, I peeled open my swollen left eye, the room an over-bright blur of geometric shapes.

 

The heartbeat monitor’s tempo was picking up, there was an annoying buzz I would bet was bringing a nurse running. The retort of the door made me wince, the pain flash-firing across my skull. A man entered my field of vision, spoke soft words that were a jumble to me.

 

Welcome back to humanity…

 

++ Jinny ++

 

In the nearly forty hours I’d been in Chicago, I’d gotten to like Olivia, Zo, Monica and the staff at Cook County. The time had passed in conversation, games and sleep, interspersed with random meals. The whole, sordid story fell from the lips of my new pals, and I had a feeling that this was more forthcoming than New York’s finest normally was. I knew now from personal experience that Monica was positively loquacious, especially for a Fed.

 

Just as I was set up to knock down Olivia’s queen on the battered chess set Zo had brought us, Abby trotted over, happy and breathless. “She’s awake.” We were on our feet, the game forgotten, hearts pounding. “You have to stay quiet, and keep it brief, but I’ll smuggle you in. C’mon.”

 

Through the catacombs of the hospital we wound, until we slipped through the double glass doors of the ICU.

 

CD looked like hell. Actually, that was the nicest thing that passed through my mind as Olivia and I skirted the bed to approach the one uncovered, bleary and bloodied blue eye. The cage-like contraption holding her right arm ran from wrist to elbow, a platform for the thick pins that thrust inward like nails in wood to vanish beneath the bloodied bandages. The knowledge that they punctured her flesh and into the shattered bones to hold them still was too horrific to contemplate for long, so I concentrated on that one eye.

 

“Hey,” Olivia purred softly and perched on the stool beside the bed, taking CD’s left hand. “He’s dead. Cath’s a dead-eye shot. Everyone’s okay. We all did good.”

 

CD’s hand tightened with surprising strength, the knuckles turning white. Wearily, CD cleared her throat. “Liv,” she whispered in a tone like driving in gravel. “God, I’m glad to see you. The others?”

 

Yeah, go figure that it was the first thing she asked. “They had to go home, Dace,” Liv explained in a voice so gentle it brought up a lump in my throat. “Their daughters needed them.”

 

That one eye closed for a moment, opened awash with tears. “Okay. You staying?”

 

“As long as you need me.”

 

++ Olivia ++

 

I meant it, giving Dace’s fingers an empathetic squeeze to emphasize my vow. Quickly, I stood and yanked Jinny into my spot, so that she could say hello before we got thrown out. While they caught up in very short sentences, Dace wasn’t caught off guard that it was Jinny and not Jo, I eyed the doctor’s work. Like a starship loading dock, there was a contraption of metal circles and struts holding that arm immobile. At least a dozen thick spikes vanished beneath the heavy bandages, and I shuddered to realize that they were pinning her broken bones in place from the outside in. Blood stained the loosely-wrapped fabric all the shades of red. The bandages on Dace’s face were still white, the blue oxygen tube taped beneath her nostrils livid against her ashen skin.

 

“We’ll come back as soon as we can,” Jinny was assuring Dace, who blinked in resignation.

 

“’Kay.”

 

“Soon,” I promised softly and the cat flashed in that reddened eye. She wasn’t alone at all. The realization made me feel much better. After all, I’d grown rather fond of the blonde woman and her strange cat spirit, personality, whatever the hell it was. 

 

“She looks surprisingly good,” Abby noted idly as we retraced our tracks to the main waiting room.

 

“Good healer, tough woman,” I noted, smiling slightly. Monica was fretting in the waiting room, frantic that we weren’t there, and unable to call because all mobiles had to be shut off on the hospital grounds. 

 

“She’s awake?” the tall agent marveled when we explained where we had been. “That’s excellent! Can I see her?”

 

“Better not push it,” Abby discouraged gently and Monica’s face fell. “But, if she’s as stable as she seemed, a regular room is in her near future. Why don’t you three go get some lunch. I’ll call if anything changes.”

 

We all hesitated, but my stomach snarling, echoed by Jinny’s, made up our minds.

 

I was asleep before we were out of the parking garage.

 

++ Gloria Parkins ++

 

It wasn’t easy for me to return to the Big Apple. After what happened to me the last time I was here… Shoving the thought away, I hunched down further into my coat and checked the address that Archangel Gabriel had given me. Nice guy, and desperate for his best friend to get out of her funk. Maybe he told me a bit more about them than he should have, but it sure as hell strengthened my resolve.

 

There it was. Sonny’s. Oh, how original.

 

Inside the ratty-looking store front was a bad movie set from a ‘Rocky’ flick. Sweaty men and a few women pounding away at boxing equipment from the last ice-age. Oh well, to each their own. The looks I was receiving made me grin wryly. Hope she liked how I turned out…

 

There was my quarry, laying into a battered old punching bag that was probably older than she was. Wait, that didn’t come out right. Shoving away my babbling inner voice, I screwed up my courage and moved to stand near her.

 

“You’re a hell of a hard woman to track down, Officer Polniaczek,” I said in my calmest, warmest voice, like the one Aunt Kali used when I would get freaked. Instantly, Jo Polniaczek froze, her back still to me. Wisely, I swallowed nervous anticipation and stood my ground.

 

What did she see? Calm brown eyes, butch-shorn black hair capped with a mop of unruly curls, a young woman’s body wrapped in club gear and off the rack military surplus. In five years, she had hardly changed, except for the pain and fatigue etched deeper into her face. Damn, I think that old crush of mine might not be as over as I thought. Damn. 

 

Clearing my throat, I stepped a little closer, awkwardly flapping the trailing edges of the heavy, oversized pea coat. 

 

“I recognized you that very first night, y’know,” I said quietly in my gentlest, most empathetic voice. “When you hooked up with Leonacouer. I just didn’t say anything until after the shit hit the fan. It’s taken me this long to convince Tarzan that I wasn’t yanking her chain, and then I had to come here and talk to Archangel Gabriel and convince him too.”

 

“Who are you?” I heard her voice grate out hoarsely and my heart went out to her in understanding.

 

“Not many kids get to meet their knights in shining armor again.” With a whoosh of air, the heavy coat dropped to the dirty floor and I thrust out strong, muscled forearms as though in offering. “I never had a chance to thank you for saving me.”

 

++ Jo ++

 

Scars traced up the girl’s arms, spidery lines from wrists to elbows, and I was suddenly transported back five years to the hellhole that earned Olivia and I our gold shields. Children held in a filthy hovel, raped and beaten by perverts that paid money to do it. A shattered window and a fire started by one brave little girl with black curls and soulful brown eyes. A charm bracelet that still haunted my dreams glittered at the scarred wrist and my eyes flew disbelievingly to the face, seeing the little girl in the wizened teenage face.

 

“Glor… Gloria?” I whispered in total disbelief and she smiled a sweet smile that showed me the girl she had been before those bastards had kidnapped her and ruined her life.

 

Somehow, I found myself in a coffee shop I’d never been in before, with a strong, hot mug of some exotic java in my cold hands. Gloria Parkins, the girl I had bonded with on possibly the worst night of both our lives, chattering happily at me. “See?” she was saying warmly and gestured airily. “I came out good, thanks to you and Officer Benson.”

 

Hardly daring to believe the incongruity of the woman-child seated before me, I reached out and tentatively traced the scars where the broken window had ravaged her tender skin. There had been no attempt to disguise them.

 

“You were my hero, y’know,” she said quietly and my eyes filled with tears. “Thinking about how brave you were that night, to save all of us kids. That gives me strength, when the nightmares come. I’m even thinking about being a cop myself someday. Y’know, maybe. Me and Aunt Kali moved to Chicago to start over, y’know? And I hooked up with the Amazons almost four years ago. They’ve been teaching me job skills, y’know, ‘cause I turn sixteen in July and I can get my license. And then,” an all-encompassing gesture took it all in. “The sky’s the limit.”

 

She’d come out okay. Despite the unspeakably horrible crime committed to her young body and soul. Gloria had come back from that and was okay. Suddenly, hope began to dawn over my battered heart. A sunny grin swept over her pretty face in response to my own.

 

“Y’know,” I began hesitantly and she inexplicably grabbed my hand in hers. “I can’t believe you’re here. This is possibly the nicest gift anyone’s ever given me, just know that you came out okay.”

 

“Yep,” Gloria beamed happily, and she was miraculously back in her coat, I was in mine, and we were headed out the door. “Now I’m going to return the favor and help you get Michael back.”

 

++ Dace ++

 

(1-18-02)

 

Two days passed in a blur of painkillers and shifting light in my window. The pain was too constant a companion to speak more than the few random words. Olivia, Jinny and Monica took turns sitting with me, and I was never alone. Grateful was an inadequate word, but they waved off my poor attempts at thanks. Each of them had different things to say to me, when I was awake. Monica told me about New Orleans, and bits and pieces of information that Mulder had told her about Sentinels. She talked about the visions that had plagued her all her life, seeing events in metaphor behind her eyes. Of the nice people who had adopted her so young that they were all she knew. Olivia told me about New York, about her mother and the bastard rapist that had fathered her. Of her partner and his wife and kids and the pretty ADA who had her feelings all jumbled up. Jinny told me about Jo’s daughter, Jamie, and their big clan in New York, where she was considering returning to once all this was over. She talked at length about her mother, who she found dead in the bathroom when she was sixteen, her father’s service pistol in the pool of blood.

 

Why they confessed these things to me, I didn’t know, but I was moved by their trust.

 

Elizabeth couldn’t get over how fast I was healing, and scheduled my second surgery for late the next day.

 

Every step brought me closer to health, every step brought me closer to following my heart south to where the desert beckoned me.

 

I would have expected the strangely existential Monica to have been my greatest confidant about the strangeness of the Cougar and Coyote. But it was Olivia that was the one I connected with the most powerfully. Her calmness was an oasis, a safe place for me to unload. She neither believed me or disbelieved me, she just… listened. With Monica, she wanted to figure out the whole puzzle, and I just wasn’t up to that kind of effort yet. I might never be. And Jinny was skeptical, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, bless her.

 

(1-19-02)

 

Anesthesia fell away in layers, like swimming up to the surface from deep water. Senses booted up like computer programs and the cat purred hello in my aching head.

 

“How are you feeling?” Olivia asked quietly and my stomach growled in irritation.

 

“Hungry?”

 

Her chuckle warmed the room as I chanced opening my eyes. “Another eight hours in surgery, and all you can think of is your stomach? You crack me up, Dace.”

 

There was just a plain old plaster cast on my arm now, and my right eye was uncovered, but reluctant to open more than a watery, near-blind slit. All in all, I felt better than I thought I would. “So feed me, wench.”

 

I had to chuckle wearily at her laughter.

 

++ Monica ++

 

(1-20-02)

 

“I’m kinda surprised that you’re still here,” Dace remarked idly, having come awake from her nap while I was engrossed in the report that Mulder sent me this morning. Grinning wryly, I flashed the woman a teasing grin.

 

“I can’t get away from you,” I teased back, never looking up from the folder in my hands.

 

Our lives had become a waiting game, as there was very little, if anything, that Dace could do for herself. So, we three were her voice to San Francisco, New York, DC, and Las Vegas. Still too doped up to understand fully what was going on around her, Dace kept her sanity by flashes of half-hearted humor and retreating into her own mind. Talking still caused her immense pain, as muscles shifted across her skull and neck. 

 

“Autopsy revealed nothing to explain his behavior,” I noted idly, and felt the weight of her fuzzy gaze.

 

“Not surprising.”

 

The arrival of Olivia interrupted whatever else we would have said, and she handed me coffee from the lobby downstairs with a sigh. “They’re going to throw us out of here pretty soon. The staff is having a harder and harder time diverting their chief of staff. Kerry’s getting stressed because she’s still on probation for some snafu awhile back, and wants to keep her nose clean.” The brunette’s expression went sunny all the sudden. “Maggie told me that she found out that your Navy doppelganger woke up this morning.”

 

“That’s good?” Dace asked as a question, not a statement, fishing for more info and Liv’s expression collapsed.

 

“She’s paralyzed at the small of the back, just like the staff here feared. There seems to be some brain damage too, but at least she made it.”

 

There was a moment of silence among us, our hearts aching for the stranger that had tried to help. She was paying for that with her future. Scrubbing her watery eyes, Olivia tried to brighten the mood again. 

“Dace, there’s a few people who’d really like to see you, when you’re up to it.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Sandy Lopez, and her girlfriend, who’s an OB here, a Joan Golfinos. Nice women. Silver Dale is still out, but her brainwaves are getting slowly steadier.” I remembered clearly that Sandy and Silver were Snake-Eyes’ original victims that had set all these events in motion. “I hope she wakes up soon, Zo tells me that her daughter isn’t taking any of this well.” We all winced at the thought. “Not that anyone expects any more from an eight year old. Oh, and Gramps and the Amazons tracked me down and were asking after you.”

 

The mixed-bag of news both pleased and disturbed Dace, that much was obvious.

 

++ Kerry ++

 

(1-21-02)

 

Getting Romano away from Dace’s pals was getting harder and harder, as he was growing more curious by the ‘miracle healer’ and wanted to keep an eye out on her. Dace glowering and even growling at him like a wounded and dangerous animal didn’t even faze him. The bastard. The staff was invaluable in the game, running a Pony Express of sorts to let the girls know when he was coming so that they could hide.

 

This shift, I was the one to take responsibility for our special project. Checking the hall, I pushed into Dace’s room, startled to find my Zo sitting with Olivia, playing checkers. “Hi baby,” she greeted me cheerfully, and I took the rare opportunity to steal a kiss on the clock. Olivia grinned warmly. I liked the New York detective, she was a good soul. 

 

“Hi guys. Keep on your toes. Romano is due on shift soon, and is perverse enough to show up early to see if he can figure out what we’re up too.” They saluted me in tandem and I went to Dace’s bedside. “I see night shift uncovered your head.” Gingerly, I brought her chin closer to me, and eyed the angry bruising and the caked stitches. “Looks good, though I’m sure you could hardly agree, hmm?”

 

“I’ve been better.”

 

“We need to get you on your feet today. You’ve been bedridden for nearly a week. You up to it?”

 

Mixed emotions flashed in the reddened eyes. “Bring somebody really strong to help, I get… well, really strong under stress. And Olivia stays. Period. It’s gonna be hard to control the cat. She’ll help.”

 

Olivia looked startled and I tried to come up with a reason to keep her close by without making Robert suspicious. “We’ll tell Romano that you’re here as part of the FBI investigation. No news has leaked about the case, except that something big went down in the club district, so he’s got no way to tell if we’re telling the truth or not.”

 

“Monica can cover that,” Olivia agreed.

 

“Good.” After checking over Dace’s vitals and ensuring that she had gotten good sleep recently, I sent for Malik to help out. Getting into a sitting up position after extended convalescence was the worst, I had seen it a million times. However, I had underestimated Dace’s strength, as she tore the heavy fabric of Malik’s wool coat. He looked spooked, glad that she hadn’t gripped flesh.

 

By the time Dace was seated on the side of the bed, her feet on the floor, she was shaken and flushed. The growling was disturbing, a low, rolling sound like a hungry cougar. Or a cornered one. Olivia spoke softly to her, coaxing the tall woman into trying.

 

++ Olivia ++

 

“Almost there, c’mon,” I murmured softly, glad and ashamed at Dace’s weakness. Once she’d caught her breath, I looped her arm around my neck as Kerry settled the cast in a sling. “If we can get you walking halfway decent, you can get the catheter out. Is that a good incentive?” A glare and stubborn jaw signaled Dace putting out a terrific effort, and before we knew it, she was on her feet. I stood chest-to-chest with her, arms wrapped around her waist and grinning proudly. “Damn nice job, Lioness.” The cast was a rock-hard reminder, the devastation of her face stark souvenir of what she had been through. “Damn nice job.”

 

Breathlessly, Dace stood quietly while Kerry removed the catheter. Shuffling backwards, I helped her through those first few shaky steps, and something clicked. Before my eyes, strength flooded her lanky body, and into her dull eyes. The woman I had grown to really like was suddenly looking into my eyes and I was awash with happiness. “Missed you.”

 

The warm smile was the best thing I’d seen in a very long time.

 

It took some effort to get Dace settled onto the toilet, and I left her in peace for a few minutes. Then it was back into the bed and a long nap. But she did something that caught me completely off guard, as she settled back into the bed that the staff had speed-changed. “Liv,” she rasped and for the first time I truly understood how deeply she needed that certain someone and something in her life. “Liv, I have to get to her… I have to. The intensity of the sounds and smells and stuff’ll drive me mad.” Her grip intensified, twisting my shirt, and I was caught up in her desperation. “Please, don’t let me end up like him, alone and insane. Please.”

 

“I promise,” I whispered hoarsely, meaning with every fiber of my being.

 

“Promise,” she whispered, eyes filled with tears, fighting her fatigue as though afraid to sleep, afraid to let me go.

 

“I do, I promise, Dace. Next stop, Las Vegas. We’ll get there as soon as we can.” Nodding, as frightened as a traumatized child, she was succumbing to sleep again, leaving me shaken by the incident. “I promise.”

 

It took long minutes for her grip to loosen, and I straightened up slowly.

 

“She needs you,” Zo spoke up quietly and I jumped. In all the intensity, I had completely forgotten the woman was here! “Hell of a responsibility.” That earned a glare.

 

“I know,” was all I could think of, sounding petulant even to my own ears.

 

++ Dace ++

 

(1-24-02)

 

Very reluctantly, Kerry had agreed that I could travel, but with provisions. So I had spent the day saying my goodbyes, making Zo and my fiery red-headed doc promise to visit Las Vegas soon. Maggie and Liz each gave me gentle kisses on the forehead, complimented me quietly and left me feeling warm and fuzzy. The nurses brought me a card and a stuffed lioness I was mad about. My new cast was already a scrawled mass of well-wishes that I suspected I would keep long after it was off my arm. 

 

As Liv helped me into sweats and a button-up shirt, the door banged open and a small figure framed herself in the doorway.

 

“Dana!” We all yelled happily in unison, except Jinny, who just looked confused.

 

“Rumor has it,” the red-head drawled with a half-grin. “You need a mobile doctor.”

 

“Your provision,” Kerry chuckled as she stepped in beside Dana. “The rest is the specialized transportation waiting downstairs. Thanks for coming and helping out, Dana.”

 

“My pleasure. We’ll get the hero here to Las Vegas in one piece or die trying.”

 

We all laughed and I swear I heard Kerry mutter something about ‘cops’ and ‘sick sense of humor’. She was right, of course, but no more so than doctors. 

 

The wheelchair made me growl, but none of them needed to tell me how lousy my stamina was right now. While I settled between the wheels, I watched the FBI agents embrace for a long moment, and a discrete kiss swapped. Good for them.

 

“C’mon, hero,” Liv mocked lightly and pushed me towards the door while the others gathered up our combined luggage and crap. Many people wished me well, and I was feeling good by the time Chicago came up and smacked us with winter.

 

“Yikes,” I grumbled and only Jinny agreed with me. Damn east coasters…

 

Transportation was a big van bus, converted on the inside like a traveling ambulance, including two full beds with triple seatbelts. Well, that explained where I was spending this trip…

 

After final farewells for Kerry and Zo, my pack settled into the bus and we were away.

 

I had to admit that I wouldn’t miss Cook County General, but I would certainly miss the staff inside. So much had happened in this Windy City of ice and tall buildings. The winter-gray scenery moved by as we headed south.

 

South, where the future awaited.

 

**THE END**

**For now…**

**The story continues in Ripples!**


End file.
